A Path Errant
by Virdu
Summary: By pure chance does Bilbo come across a stray. How will this affect the journey? How will this affect the world?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Unexpected Meeting**

 _Foreword_ : Once upon a time I figured I'd never write a story that included the Tolkien-verse though not because I have any kind of dislike for it – actually I enjoy it a lot. Just didn't think I'd write fan fiction of it... until some time after I started playing FFXIV:ARR, which after many mmos was the first since WoW to really deeply charm me, when an idea started to take shape. That said, onto the story itself: Basically it will run its course somewhat according to the movie trilogy, along with a few tidbits from the book. In terms of FFXIV's time-line it will until a certain point take place several decades prior to the events of Heavensward. And eventually, if we get that far, I plan to extend this story into the LotR trilogy.

Oh, and exclaimer alert: Neither franchise belongs to me, or I wouldn't be a part-time worker at a food-store.

And without ado: Enjoy!

* * *

Bilbo remembered he fell, and indeed a long way he had fallen alongside the goblin that made an almost successful but ill-fated ambush. It was only by the graces that he woke before it, thanks in large part to the patch of black mushroom he inadvertently landed into while the despicable creature just across of him had little choice but let a floor of granite suffice.

Unfortunately, gratitude had to wait as a shrill throaty gulp and hiss came from nearby, an ugly being that was much too thin with a maniacal expression who whooped and hooted in glee at what it had found.

"Yes... yeeees!" the creature cackled as it circled the downed goblin that chose this exact time to have a return, albeit a slow one, to its senses. Too little at the moment to even bother the creature as it finished appraising what it much to Bilbo's distaste sized up to be a meal and doubled up to cough a coarse, "Gollum, gollum!"

Gollum was as good a name as it could be, Bilbo supposed.

He dared not move and watched from the thrice-praised mushroom patch that kept him hidden as Gollum seized the goblin's feet and hauled it away, an effort paused only as the meal-to-be woke up and tried to apply a proper measure of chaotic resistance until Gollum hopped and in return applied a rock against skull.

Rendered unconscious once again, the goblin had little choice but be hauled off to its grim fate. Bilbo on the other hand decided not to care what happened to it. Far as he was concerned, every moment Gollum was occupied with its grisly meal was another moment he could use to find a way out and back to the others.

"Nasty goblinses." Gollum hissed, and creepily retaliated onto itself; "Better than old bones, precious. Better than... nothing."

Once the ugly and the uglier were out of the picture for at least the moment, Bilbo picked himself out of the blessed mushroom patch and pulled out his sword that with great immediacy lit the space with its ghostly blue light, indicative of the nearby goblin, and stalked forth with great caution with a baggage made of a thousand thoughts and ideas of what to do and where to go. An effort ended momentarily as he noticed a shine of gold at the edge of his vision and found a splendorous ring he went and picked up to examine, briefly enthralled by this tiny thing of beauty in this grim and dark place.

He was reminded amidst this moment of admiration by the scale of his predicament as Gollum whimpered loudly in the distance, and clamored about how little meat the goblin had on it – then chastised itself in all promptness.

Bilbo grimaced at the continued cacophony as he followed the very short tunnel to where it ended up, a large underground lake where Gollum currently toiled to skin its captive. The creature was too close yet for the hobbit's comfort, and he found himself stock still as he tried to figure a way to sneak past it.

It seemed however that the problem would fix itself in an astonishing display as a stone came from the dark distance and with notable accuracy struck the middle of Gollum's head hard enough to smash it into the rocky ground, cutting its loud groans short.

"Can you ever be silent?!" a clearly feminine voice cried out irritably, evidently more than a bit familiar but ultimately fed up with the creature's noisy tendencies.

"Gollum, gollum." the creature, clearly hard-headed, groaned as it picked itself groggily up and glared into the distance, "Still hears me she does, precious! Wicked she is!"

It was far too beautiful a voice to have come from a goblin or any other other monster that might occur under the mountain. Bilbo therefore dared himself to look out of the tunnel at wherever the voice had come from and stood for a moment awestruck at what he discovered. And indeed, the being who stood at the lake's rocky beach was a female who stood better than five feet tall. At first he thought she was of the race of Men, but she was more slender, more nubile, with fair skin and pointy fur-covered ears that stabbed out of her short brown hair fashioned into downward-angling spikes. Most notable feature however was the long brown tail that extended from her posterior, currently swishing in agitation.

"Of course I hear you." she snapped at it, arms folded across her ample chest, the brown leather and cloth-made clothes worn by her made to be tight-fitting yet comfortable, "It is only by the Twelve's grace alone the whole mountain hasn't come rushing down on you yet."

He had never seen such a being before, but decided that right now she was his best chance to get out of this murky pit. She must have come down from somewhere. "Uh, hello..." he found himself utter with strange calm and meekness and leaned out of his lackluster hiding spot.

Both of the others instantly blinked at him. Gollum glared most intensely, obviously interested in this decidedly more meaty treat that just invited itself in to this cavern. Bilbo felt withered under that gaze at the same time as he was astonished by the female's slitted eyes that seemed like those of a cat rather than anything unpleasant that shared the same characteristic. More than the slitted pupils were the unevenly colored irises, colored green and teal respectively.

"It would seem," she smiled dazzlingly, "fate has finally seen it fit to give me company that is at the very least passably handsome, if one rather on the short side."

Bilbo grimaced, "Um..."

"Oh don't mind me. If it was not for what happened, I could have been at an establishment with a fair lad of great mast to keep me warm for the night. Instead I ended up stuck here with that." she gestured at Gollum with distaste.

Aside from what she not so subtly implied, the other implication of her words made his heart drop through the ground. Quite a bit before it truly fell off the world however, she made a metaphorical grab for it and continued. "Anyway, did you come here through that blasted aetheryte too?"

He quirked an eyebrow, "Aether-what now?"

The female drooped, "Guess you didn't."

"But... what is it?" Bilbo asked.

"... It's really strange to meet someone who doesn't know." she admitted awkwardly, "Alright. I'll act the teacher. Where I am from, every town over a certain size got a big crystal in the middle. Strictly controlled and cost a fair amount of Gil to access, but there is no faster way to travel. Come, I'll show you."

Though uncertain about the topic, wild as it sounded – convenient if true as it is – he followed her from a small distance behind across the cavern, each moment spent staring at her swishing tail – totally not at her well-sculpted rear – until he just around an eventual bend came to look, no, gawk upon a huge crystal glowing a brilliant blue as if with the radiance with both the sea and stars that protruded from the rough granite wall... next to which llay a pickaxe and a war axe.

"This," she came to pat a hand on the crystal, "is an aetheryte - and what an odd place it is to find one. A while ago I was just in the process of moving back to my home town, me and a some bloke. Poor guy. Something happened and we ended up here instead of there."

"And where... is that guy?"

She sighed sadly and patted a hand on the wall where she had obviously and furiously tried to crack open with her pickaxe. "Popped into a pocket beyond this wall. Suffocated before I could bring him out. And I stopped trying to make sure that thing over there won't eat his body while I'm not looking."

"I understand..." Bilbo grimly nodded after he tried to imagine the fate that man must have suffered, and shuddered at the thought. "So about this... aetheryte. You use that to travel?"

With a shrug and a motion to rest hands on hips she turned to him, "That's right."

"And why haven't you then used it again? I mean, instead of staying here... maybe come back with a group to get your friend out and back."

"Would have, but the forsaken thing is not responding. So I'm stuck here in Twelve knows where until this thing starts to function properly or I find another one that will."

"Unfortunately," Bilbo shook his head apologetically, "I have never seen a crystal like this in my life... but maybe my dwarven companions, or Gandalf, knows."

Her cat-like eyes lit up a bit, "And where may these crystal-savvy folks be?"

"I... kind of got separated from them. We were ambushed by goblins on our way across this mountain. _If_ they managed to get away from those things... they are probably on their way out." he tore his gaze from her and looked down, "Sorry, it's a long shot."

"Better than nothing." the young woman shrugged as she went and holstered her tool and weapon, "A much better lead than any other these last few days." before she grabbed at a protruding part of the crystal and with effort broke off a piece she immediately stowed away in a pocket.

"Optimism long live." he tiredly sighed, "I still don't know the way up any more than I did a while ago."

"No... but one here might."

Bilbo blinked in confusion as she walked past to the shore and plucked a rock she quickly came to balance on her palm, "Gollum!"

"What?!" shouted the creature from as far away as it could get with its disgusting meal.

"If you don't want another stone on your head, and want not to see more of me, lead us to the mountain exit!"

A moment of silence followed by a score of angry mutters was the answer. It however was stifled as though scalded when the woman raised the rock-proffered hand. "She forces us, precious! To go up to the nasty goblinses!" Gollum clamored, "Just do it. Sooner we get rid of, better it will be!" - "Yes! Yes!"

The female turned to him, sporting a little smirk, "Problem solved, mister..."

"Bilbo Baggins."

"Good name, Bilbo." she replied with a smile, "My name is H'anigi Tohl."

 _OoOoO_

Gollum had few virtues to his name, and muttered to himself incessantly with a vocabulary that would have made a drunken Lominsian blush. Language aside he was an adequate ticket to the outside world.

At the very least he did not carry that odd trinket anymore.

Very clearly it was a useful item, capable of rendering its user invisible. Accordingly it was by the grace of Thal that it sucks in aether so noticeably as to alert her anytime he tried to ambush her, or she would have died long before Bilbo came along and somehow managed to appropriate it without the creature's notice. Gollum probably still thinks it is in his loincloth, and she was not at all inclined to inform it of that loss. Even now, H'anigi could sense its very vague presence practically hang in the air behind her from where it was nestled in the pocket Bilbo had used to stow it away. It struck her as odd that neither Gollum nor Bilbo noticed that particular aspect of it, but chose not to comment.

Instead she focused on the climb up the winding tunnels that riddled the mountain, probably a match for the underground networks that the kobolds are so fond of digging – though in this case with much less emphasis on mining the whole mountain into rubble. To ensure pure discomfort in the traverse of these tunnels no expense was saved, so it was a rough going accompanied by a tense unease that permeated the air, given over so generously by a distant rumble of an enraged goblin populace that cursed and howled at the caverns around them.

"For them to be so angry..." H'anigi worded in a whisper.

"Something must have happened." she heard Bilbo guess with some hopeful relief, "Maybe Thorin and the others did manage to slip away!"

"Possibility is there. Gollum, how much further?"

"We are here..." Gollum grunted, "Exit is over there. Yes it is, precious."

H'anigi rolled her eyes at the little piece of eccentricity, born from being all alone for Gods knows how long. On that part at least she pitied him. Miqo'te are no strangers to solitude, but the creature who huddled himself against the wall and gestured to and past a corner up ahead had gone far beyond that and into complete seclusion. However long it has lasted, it damaged something deep inside of him. Whatever caused him to go that far she was not eager to find out.

With only a wary glance directed at him, she stepped past the cowering being and nearly winced as she leaned past the corner to take her first look at sunlight in two days. It was glorious to a religious extent, and certainly to a Seeker of the Sun it surely was.

Once her eyes grew adjusted to the sharp light she notice a little bit of a particular problem about their point of egress. Blocking the way was a batch of six goblin guardsmen. Heavily armed and dressed in heavy armor, ready and alert for anything. H'anigi withdrew and looked to her new comrade, and a notable lack of Gollum's presence. "Where did he go?"

The man she saw as a very growth-stunted midlander with exceptional leg-growth threw up his arms. A man unfortunate with his lack of boots yet with the mental fortitude not to complain about it, "Ran off the moment you looked away from him."

And sooner or later he would try to put on the trinket to make his trip back easier, but upon the failure to find it would make a racket, connect the dots, and charge back with all caution tossed to the void.

Time was precious.

"How bad is it?" Bilbo asked apprehensively.

"Six guardsmen and we'll be home free." H'anigi sighed and rubbed her temples grudgingly at the thoughts that occurred to her, "As to how... I got a plan. Please do as I say."

 _OoOoO_

Bilbo had absolutely no idea how she managed to find out about the ring in his possession that according to H'anigi was Gollum's, but the curtly uncovered plan was pretty sound to his ears and carried relatively low risk to him compared to the part she would irrevocably play.

To his light surprise, when he finally slipped on the ring the world seemed to fade into a ghostly landscape filled with shadows that licked hungrily against what pockets of light existed. He was left for a moment to stare into the distance, a steady gaze that was idly drawn away to a single mysterious point that seemed as though it jerked and pulled at him. An oddity Bilbo went on to ignore as he stepped around the corner and walked with enforced calm toward the group of armed guards, the gaunt shapes clad in heavy armor that completely enveloped them in blackness in this shadow world.

And once close enough, he stepped to the wall and drew the brightly glowing sword of his.

Consequently, as if summoned by his arrival into position, H'anigi crossed into the open... her axe hefted in one hand, then held in both hands as she lowered her stance in plain view of the goblins who in shrill, shrieking, anticipation instantly plowed toward her as one.

Bilbo waited for them to pass, then slipped in behind with his sword brandished, and resolutely stabbed it deeply into the closest creature's back. He was still apprehensive about the killing of others, but willed himself to do it for the simple reason that his comrade in this was a woman... no offense intended.

Impaled on the glowing blade, the goblin dropped without a word. Bilbo winced at how his weapon clung to the creature's flesh till he managed to pull it back out and launched himself to the next, who he likewise ran the blade through. This time his victim cried out in agony, and required another quick stab to put down.

He was about to take on the third one, when its head abruptly parted from the neck. It was then that he noticed all the other goblins were already dead... H'anigi standing over them no worse from the wear, her axe stained dark with blood, "Phew... easier than I thought." she whistled and commented.

Bilbo pulled the ring off to put it back in his pocket, and kept his words to himself except to tell her, "We should leave, fast. More will probably come soon."

As though expecting that to come true quite imminently, H'anigi looked down the passage behind before she muttered her agreement and they fled for the sparsely forested land beyond. Bilbo almost had to catch himself from gasping in surprised relief at the sweet fresh outside air that almost eagerly rushed into his lungs. Finding his companions however quickly proved to be much less an arduous task than he imagined as someone bellowed angrily further down the valley in a voice that was most recognizably Thorin's.

"Would that be...?" he heard the woman question curiously as she followed his gaze to a patch of the forest where a large group of dwarves and wizard argued amongst themselves – though most were rather much like spectators to Gandalf and Thorin.

"It's them." Bilbo returned, unable to properly contain his relief as they neared, "It's..." he was on his way to repeat only to stop and slow down as he looked back to find her furrow her delicate brows as though confused. "What's the matter?"

 _OoOoO_

When Bilbo mentioned his companions, H'anigi half-expected to see a group of lalafell judging by the 'dwarven' description – the diminutive beings have been called worse names in the past. Instead the midlander had led her to a collection of beings that despite the moniker almost towered over him, a particularly scraggy bunch with an excess abundance of facial hair. A few seemed handsome enough in a rugged way, but quite a few among the rest looked like they have seen too many autumns.

Slowly she pulled enough of herself out of thought to offer a reply to the worried Bilbo, "Um, nothing. I just don't think I have really met their like before..."

"Likewise with me and very soon very possibly them about you. Except for Gandalf I would imagine." Bilbo seemed to process that for a moment, "Speaking of unfamiliar sights, dwarves do tend to be slow to trust – tough history and that – and double that for what is unknown. You should probably hang back while I go and clear a few things up before we make introductions."

H'anigi belatedly agreed once she contemplated the matter. If they are indeed slow to accept strangers, the appearance of one even alongside a comrade right after a likely most hectic time with the uglier denizens of the mountain would make matters worse. Best then to take just one thing at a time. "Fair enough, but I'll try to keep as near as I can. Pray be as swift as you may."

"Not too close I hope," Bilbo nodded and went on ahead, "Would be bad if they loosed an arrow on you for rustling a bush nearer than comfortable."

"Oh nothing to worry about." the miqo'te smiled in a little chipper manner as she watched then articulated an arm to grab and heft her pickaxe – more a meditative act than a martial one that softened her steps as she followed the hairy-legged midlander through the foliage from a further distance.

 _OoOoO_

Bilbo resisted the urge to look back as H'anigi practically melted into the background, so complete in her soundlessness. It provided for an interesting perspective on how the tall people feel about how easily nearby hobbits can seem to vanish when properly inclined. He was rather surprised some other race out there could do similarly.

Topic of interest notwithstanding, he shook it off as the distance between him and the arguing companions he had tried to leave behind up in the mountains shrank. At first he intended to holler, instead he hit upon the idea to don his new found ring and pop out amongst them. Give them a surprise and lend credence to his so far informed ability as a burglar. Mirthful at his own cleverness he put it on and reemerged into the bizarre shadowed realm he for all its oddity was quick to grow accustomed to and largely ignored any faint discomfort in favor of the 'prank' he had in mind. Like that, he rapidly approached the center of commotion.

 _Nori, Dori, Bofur, Gl_ _ò_ _in, Dwalin, Balin,_ _Ò_ _in, Bombur, Bifur, Ori, Thorin, Fili, and Kili. Good... they are all here!_ Bilbo smiled as he looked from each and the next, relieved to see the company by and far unmolested. Not that it was much of a surprise, as every one of them are far more stout than he could ever hope to be. His onward march was brought to a stop however as he fell upon a tree just as the argument between dwarf and wizard was set into a corner.

"I'll tell you what happened." Thorin growled at Gandalf, with venom laced across every letter of every word, "Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since he stepped out of his door."

The disappointment that came from their leader took Bilbo aback. A suitably justified one as the point did indeed ring true. Bag End was ever close to mind and heart from the very beginning. Yet another truth also rang true. He still had a home to return to, the dwarves didn't. Little choice did they have but to go forward.

"We will not be seeing our Hobbit again." the dwarf continued and sank a wave of gloomy mood over the group, "He is long gone."

For a moment Bilbo let himself sag against the tree and let the Took side of his heritage chastise the Baggins side that yearned enough for home that he was willing to forsake and abandon his new if hard-gained friends. Shame burned strongly in him for his decision, and as the more settled state of mind yielded and the adventurous mindset came to the fore and kindled a desire to at least help these folk. And with that was happy to prove Thorin wrong as he pulled free the ring and deposited it away as he strode out of the little hiding spot.

"No. He isn't." Bilbo simply stated as he emerged, and felt a small tinge of satisfaction at the wide eyes with which the dwarves greeted him in a surprised silence cut short as Gandalf strode onward with a smile.

"Bilbo Baggins." he gladly said, "I have never been so glad to see anyone in my life." with every implication that he sorely meant it.

"Bilbo." Kili was next to express, "We'd given you up!"

The dark-haired dwarf's brother Fili furrowed his brows in disbelief that was a far greater deal kinder than some certain few, "How did you get past the goblins?"

Dwalin continued the train of thought with a grim, "How indeed."

"Well, what does it matter?" Gandalf shrugged it off after a long meaningful look to the hobbit who chuckled in response to the much older dwarf with a mind to move on to introducing the new friend he made in the mountain depths. "He's back."

"It matters." Thorin ground out, "I want to know..." and let that hang in the air before he ventured on to the question the man felt had to be asked, "Why did you come back?"

So it came to that. Bilbo lagged for a moment to compound his prior thoughts before he made his empathic reply, "Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right, I always think of Bag End. I miss my books, my armchair and my garden." he paused for a second, "See, that's where I belong. That's home... And that's why I came back. Because... you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

What followed, a general change in the atmosphere. It was difficult to properly describe what played across the group in response to his reason for coming back. They never counted him for much, merely looking onto him to fill the fourteenth spot so they would not hit the unlucky number and friendly if only out of principle or matter of course. In an instant it was like they all saw him with a new light. To say it straight out: Ice had been broken. Gandalf merely smiled and seemed impressed.

Now finally though, Bilbo felt like he was being glared to the back of his head and decided with a raised hand to offer an answer to Fili's question. It would however seem introductions had no choice but to wait even further as he was crassly interrupted by loud howls that chilled him to his very bones before he could speak as movement made by great wargs, loathsome beasts with the bulk of horses, filled the mountainside and bore down on them.

"From the frying pan." Thorin hissed.

"And into the fire." Gandfalf grimly finished, "Run!"

All notion of staying in one spot was abandoned in an instant, and as one the company ran at full tilt. Bilbo inevitably lagged behind, less from ability to run than concern for H'anigi who was still up there. Until urgency compelled him to join in the hasteful attempt to escape the dozens of fangs that snapped and howled at their collective heels.

 _OoOoO_

Drawn from the training of being a prospector inherent in the kind of miner that sought out uncharted veins in the wilderness, H'anigi had watched the meet between midlander and 'dwarves' in meditative passiveness that buried deep down any excitement that monsters and the like would have grown alerted to. A skill that came to be handy as a howl pierced the air and a flock of vast wolves suddenly plowed past the area she stood in. The miqo'te almost lost her concentration and praised Llymaen for being downwind – the vile smell of those beasts ridden by even uglier ones a mercy compared to the prospect of facing a sharp-toothed maw the size of a window.

Much more unfortunate it was an implication for the fellowship further down as they bid a rapid retreat, slayed a couple of riderless wolves, and climbed as one up a number of trees that was subsequently felled by the intensive onslaught that followed, and the weight of those beasts leveraged against the comparatively meager trunks. H'anigi watched in silent horror as Bilbo and the others frantically jumped from tree to fallen tree while the ugly creatures of the ridden beasts laughed cruelly at their predicament until the final one at the very edge of a cliff from where they retaliated through the lighting and tossing of acorn that set the dry foliage ablaze.

It discouraged the lot, but did not diminish the severity of the situation in the least... especially as the final tree gave away and tilted past the tall cliff's edge. Miraculously at the very least, its roots still caught hold to its homely soil and held fast. A small mercy. At least two very nearly fell away, but the creature that apparently led the savage pack, one of very distinct pale flesh with cruel hooks for an arm, ignored them in favor of a lone one with dark beard and strong countenance who stood onto the trunk and stomped across with fire in his eyes that burned stronger than the sea of flames that licked the area between them. And transfixed by this one, the creature grinned in bated anticipation, welcoming the challenge.

Even if it had no plan to have it be an even fight.

Before her time working as a miner, she was a pirate in Limsa Lominsa, and in that life of piracy she left behind there was little to no room for idealism and purity. Pragmatism was what ruled the day, brought spoils in, and enabled them to survive long enough to enjoy it. Still H'anigi winced as the creature prompted his beast with a kick to its sides to barrel the dwarf down. And the opponent just barely managed to get up before the creature bowled him over with a massive mace.

H'anigi watched with shock as Bilbo, unable to take the sight for any longer, climbed onto the hanging trunk and walked toward the action. "Bilbo," she whispered her disbelief, "what are you doing?" He never struck her to be much of a warrior, but the kind of guy who would look perfectly within his element next to a field of vegetables. Instead the slight being interposed himself between the riders and the fallen dwarf, killing the creature chosen with the final execution in the process.

With that, the spell broke. Furious at the hairy-legged midlander for putting himself in such danger and even more so at the creatures switched to the axe and let that anger fuel her svelte body. Old legends spoke of the Warriors of Abalathia's Spine, who harnessed their inner beasts to unleash unbridled savagery on the battlefield. The first mate of the Captain she once served were interested to see if he could unleash that potential in the crew's assortment of marauders – who carried a similar tradition of wielding great battle axes. Even if he lacked any specific lore on how this was achieved, the result of that harsh training he put them through was most telling.

H'anigi herself got further than most. Hesitation melted away in favor of a strong lust for battle, and an almost narcotic emptiness delicious in its wholesomeness spread itself through every inch of her before it was in turn filled with every intent and desire to butcher with abandon.

In the end, it was this part of her, this beast that had slaughtered her victims till the axe was stained black, she had to tame before any homecoming. For some reason she had no desire to show this part of her to Bilbo, but there was nothing for it.

Killing intent rolled off of her in waves in such intensity that the riderless beasts that now kept themselves well beyond the fire scattered in a moment of startled fright. One of them was too slow, and with a solid grip on both the lower and upper part of her axe's grip she swung the weapon across its chin and shoulder, splitting its flesh wide open. The beast let out a high-pitched whine in agony and fled its pained self deeper into the woods.

By that time, Bilbo was joined by every other dwarf and a desperate brawl broke out between the stompers and riders where the latter still held the advantage. One that the miqo'te hoped to leverage as she brought herself to one of the ridden beasts and cleaved the rider's leg off at the knee. It wailed in shock and fell off while the beast bolted, and turned around just in time to see her fury-drenched glare before she sank her axe deep into its skull.

It fell dead, and its imminently headless rider joined it immediately after. And finally it occurred to the other creatures that there are more enemies here than those before them. Close to Bilbo, the pale one had the presence of mind to scan the area behind and found her racing for him at an almost shocking speed that neither man nor dwarf could replicate. Her kind evolved as hunters, with powerful leg muscles, sleek body, long tail for greater balance and keen senses with excellent coordination - so to produce great a speed was simply a matter of course.

H'anigi crossed the distance faster than the dwarf had, and was reasonably confident she could have taken the monster down before it occurred to her that the situation had gotten a whole lot more chaotic as many of the wolves and creatures were picked off the ground and thrown away. Several dwarves were missing and more vanished by the second, picked up by massive birds. She watched in befuddlement as one of those grabbed Bilbo and carried him away.

Desperately, thinking the midlander had fallen victim as was natural, H'anigi was about to bury her axe into the snarling pale one's wolf's head when she found herself abruptly wrapped up by a set of talons and was cleanly hoist off the ground with no preamble. Only deeply ingrained reflexes kept the axe in hand as the miqo'te forgot her fury and flailed momentarily in shock and fright of being so far parted from the ground.

After that, H'anigi simply froze as the eagle that carried her flew as the very last to leave the cliff behind. All the others already far ahead, herself picked as though an afterthought. Caught between her past excitement and the current fright, she soon nodded off with the wind ringing in her ears.

 _OoOoO_

Relief was abundant across the eyrie they were released from the eagles' grasp as Thorin finally stirred from near-death under Gandalf's care and was helped to his feet. Still, he quickly shook off those who held him to confront an almost conspicuously lone-standing Bilbo Baggins. "You!" he grunted hoarsely, tone soaked in ample disbelief. Bilbo on his side simply stood silent while Gandalf watched idly from the sideline. "What were you doing... You know you could have gotten yourself killed... Did I not say you would be just a burden... That you would not survive in the wild... That you had no place amongst us?"

Bilbo remained silent, with downcast eyes. So he reacted with nothing short of surprise when Thorin abruptly embraced him:

"I have never been so wrong in all my life!"

Now it was Bilbo's turn to react with disbelief – if wordlessly – and was in no small amount relieved, something entirely contagious as the rest merrily laughed and clapped shoulders. Gandalf looked even further pleased by how the conflict had been entirely resolved.

Thorin released him shortly after and stepped back, "I am sorry I doubted you."

"Oh no," he found himself say, "I doubted myself too. I'm no hero, no warrior," and with a look to the wizard added, "not even a burglar."

That was about all that needed to be said, before the dwarf in satisfaction looked into the distance and ascended the slight slope of this rock formation they had been placed on by the orbiting eagles. All the rest shortly followed him to where they could clearly stare into the horizon that was broken by the sharp edge of a distant mountain.

"Erebor." Gandalf helpfully introduced, "The Lonely Mountain. Last great dwarf kingdom of the middle-earth."

"Our home." Thorin breathed airily.

For a moment they savored the sight before the quiet was broken by Balin who pointed out as birds small birds swooped past, toward the lonely mountain, "Ravens! The birds are returning to the mountain!"

Gandalf followed it up by calling it a 'Thrush', but Bilbo's mind was someplace else entirely as Balin's thoughts nagged at him before it occurred to him. Something really important that was swept aside when the orcs struck. Lost with all that happened after. At this time a few of the dwarves noted how the eagles loitered expectantly.

So it was when Bilbo silently excused himself and pushed through the crowd to look the way they came... and found another eagle on approach, with a recognizable womanly figure held in its claws, whose hand in turn held onto the drawn bronze war axe – somehow still in her grip despite being unconscious.

A person that earned a few curious glances from the turning dwarves as the eagle briefly lowered itself not far away and put her down. "Hm?" Dori could be heard grumbling in confusion, a notion agreed upon as many wondered where she had come from. And what she was doing here. Whether they noticed the cat-like attributes of hers Bilbo paid no attention to as he ran to the woman and sat on his knees to wrap an arm underneath her neck to prop and hold her up. "H'anigi." he gently shook her, "H'anigi... are you alright?"

A low hiss left her lips as she slowly came to, then lightly started with the realization that she was no longer held by talons as though thinking she had been sent into a free-fall before the waking dream ended and the woman found in boundless relief that underneath her was good and solid ground. H'anigi focused on Bilbo and smiled, her tail flicking to the side, "... If I never get to fly again... it will be too soon."

"H'anigi..." he breathed.

"Don't be glad." she hissed softly, "I still got to reprimand you... for going into danger like that."

Bilbo mirthfully grinned, "Ah. Sorry about that... Did I..."

To continue any further on the chatter however was rendered difficult to say the least as an impossibly stern voice laced with alarm called out to him. "Bilbo." and he half-turned to get a lump in his throat at the sight of a bristling Gandalf who stared through him, at the woman he held.

With a creeping and disbelieving sensation that not even the ancient wizard had seen the likes of her, Bilbo raised his free hand. "Wait. Wait, Gandalf. She's a friend..."

"Step aside Bilbo." Gandalf said, a suggestion delivered like an order. The dwarves too stared at her like she shouldn't even _be_. Bilbo ignored the rest in favor of the wizard who looked every ounce his age as he muttered something lyrical of a language that his ears could not hope to comprehend. "Now."

* * *

 **Author notes:** And there you have it. Quite a lot of stories out there with Miqo'te protagonists, but I could not think of any other I'd like to rather use – must be something about the character I use in the game being Miqo'te. Also the gear she uses is the Iron War Axe and the Toadskin set, without the gloves.

Also on the subject of aetherytes. How there can be an aetheryte in Middle-Earth? An answer to that will have to wait as the story progress. Suffice it to say there will be some artistic license involved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Belated Welcome**

* * *

H'anigi was about to snap at the old fart among old farts who glared at her with suspicion and not a little disbelief. One could imagine it was understandable considering the trouble they all went through but to so openly wave aside the words of their companion like it was worth so little to nothing was simply too much. She would have snapped, she did want to, but couldn't. Not once she came to look at him head on and felt like she just hit her face against a literal wall that came rushing out at her from nowhere. Not after she, to her own eyes, perceived the amount of aether that hovered about the old man and shrouded all of him but a vague outline and those coldly piercing eyes that shone like two pearls lit from within. It raised her hackles like no one's business and she almost bit down hard enough to draw blood – only she was not sure for that terrible instant whether it was the tongue or lower lip that suddenly got stuck.

Aether permeated the entire world in one form or another, but nowhere has she ever perceived this kind of concentration before. Not even in the purest crystals taken from the holds of trade vessels back in the day. It was unnatural and it took every ounce of willpower to not flee in terror before it.

Yet despite that, neither Bilbo nor the beings around that... monstrosity... seemed to even notice. Then again, neither the hairy-legged midlander nor that despicable Gollum picked up on how that strange trinket now in Bilbo's pocket ate at airborne aether. How could that at all be? Could that simply be a local peculiarity?

Bilbo by his hold on her tightened seemed to notice how she froze up and asked a worried, "H'anigi, what's wrong?"

"You..." bluntly to her personal regret, she ignored him and instead worked her lips with great effort against the elder, "What are you...?"

For the very first time the old fart seemed to blink, "That I am sure is my line." he muttered warily, "For in all the long verses of Eru Iluvatar's Song never did it carry any mention of your kind..."

"The... what now?" H'anigi whispered her confusion.

"Ainulindalë." he cryptically answered and narrowed those eyes as he approached, this time Bilbo could not help but step aside and let H'anigi support herself alone. Ignoring the companion's plea he added in a whisper with a look to her narrow ears and long tail then into her slitted eyes so different in color, "You... have no presence in it. And I need to know why..."

Bilbo interjected, seeing this suspicion as rather excessive, "Gandalf, she came from far away. I mean..."

"That I cannot know all of middle-earth's contents?" the old fart smiled as he looked onto the midlander in wry amusement, "I have walked it for many an age, Bilbo. The sole matter I cannot claim to know about most is the corruption left in evil's wake, but this being so in the likeness of Man yet different is something else entirely. She should not be, yet here she is."

During his little distraction with Bilbo the old man's thick shroud of aether seemed to recede as though brought by a calm and the vague visage became more defined into the image of a withered and bearded old man. It made H'anigi's nerves a whole lot less frazzled and she could finally act on the disbelief that she felt at that statement, "You say you have walked the world, yet you have obviously not been in Eorzea."

A thoughtful look passed his expression as he returned to look in her eyes, "I would say both are very true. Long have I wandered, yet never been in what you call Eorzea – for there is no such place on the face of the middle-earth."

Evidently confused, whispers buzzed between the collection of dwarves who watched them. Thorin was the only one to word what every one of them are thinking: "Gandalf, what is the meaning of this?"

"I now aim to find out." Gandalf muttered as he with solemnity stood before her, "And you will provide the answers I seek..."

H'anigi grimly nodded.

"Do you have a name?"

"Aren't you going to introduce yourself first?"

He smiled thinly, "I have many names, but Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey, will do."

"... H'anigi Tohl."

 _OoOoO_

"A peculiar name." Gandalf wondered aloud, and more quietly imagined humorously if she in her thoughts retorted similarly about his own title that came with being the Grey Wizard among the Istari of whom there used to be five. A White, a Grey, a Brown, and two Blues... the latter two of which he no longer remembered the names. They at a point journeyed east and never returned. "Is there a particular convention?"

She, the strange feline-like person that had abruptly appeared in their midst and befriended the Hobbit in their company, scrunched up her lips for a moment. "H' for Tribe. Anigi is given name. Tohl is name of my father."

 _Informative_. "Most informative." he repeated his thought aloud, "Now this may come out as rude, but what are you precisely?"

H'anigi sat herself up and like she only just realized released hold on the axe she had held onto till her knuckles were all white from unwillingness to let go of its handle. "Er..." she rubbed the white-knuckled hand against the back of her head, "I am a Miqo'te, one of the Seekers of the Sun."

"Miqo'te." Gandalf repeated thoughtfully and rolled the world back and forth as though to test it, he looked toward the weapon she carried and the blood on it. "You do not seem averse to combat. Does your race allow women to fight?"

"... Most fighting Miqo'te are women."

"What," Fili interrupted, "your men are too scared to fight themselves?"

"It isn't a matter of cowardice." she rolled her eyes, "They are simply too few."

"Too few?" Nori questioned.

"Matter of birthrate. Females among our kind vastly outnumber males. So we make up the hunters while males in the capacity of Nunh and their subordinated bachelor Tia lead. Only the best may hold position of Nunh though... and can be readily challenged and usurped by a Tia if they prove themselves stronger or smarter."

"And why is that?" Gandalf wondered.

"Nunh are breeding males." she blushed vaguely, "... To provide the finest stock is reason for the need of strong Nunh."

Obviously this took the conversation into a more or less uncomfortable direction and embarrassed coughs passed between many of the dwarves other than the two youngest ones who hung onto every word. "One final question about that." the wizard thoughtfully and carefully probed, "How great is the difference in number?"

"From one male for every dozen females to one for every fifty. Things are a little different among our cousins among the Keepers of the Moon, as they are matriarchal and ruling females keep most of the males in harems they loan to those who have earned their favor while the rest wander from settlement to settlement to... ahem... spread their see-"

Gandalf quickly raised a hand, "That is quite enough, thank you. Tell me instead of where you live..."

H'anigi seemed to understand and changed the subject, "The place I've lived in for the whole of my adult life is Limsa Lominsa. A thalassocracy on the western side of Eorzea."

 _Rule of the sea_. The wizard understood, "A maritime city." he voiced for the benefit of the more landlocked dwarves and hobbit.

"Indeed. A city spread out over countless isles, blessed by the Goddess of navigation, Llymaen. Massive shipping industry. Lots of shipbuilding and fishing. Beautiful place."

"And there are other realms on this Eorzea?"

"A continent. Several city-states. Down among the desert dunes is Ul'dah, their mines dots the landscape. Up on the tall peaks is Ishgard, ever in their war against the Dravanian Horde – a thousands strong army of dragons."

The first the dwarves seemed to favor with a few comments of interest. Most dwarves are miners and craftsmen, so it was a matter of course. But the second was what provoked a greater reaction. "An army of dragons? Thousands of them?" Thorin whispered in palpable disbelief, "For how long have they fought for you to speak of it so easily?"

"I only know what some traveler told me." H'anigi shrugged, she had eased up enough to the conversation to be quite talkative, "That conflict is apparently called the Dragonsong War, and has been waged by either side for more than nine hundred years."

"More than nine hundred years against such odds." Balin whispered very quietly, "Erebor fell to one alone."

Thorin wordlessly grit his teeth and tightened the fists. Probably wondering if they missed something, that somehow the kingdom could have thrown the dragon away if that something had been done. "We know nothing of Ishgard and the dragons she speaks of, Thorin Oakenshield." Gandalf told him, "Do not sell Erebor's effort too short. Smaug would have been a daunting foe in even the ancient times. Please continue, H'anigi."

"Um... otherwise there is the forest city of Gridania, ruled by the elementals, and the far-off warrior realm of Ala Mhigo."

Gandalf considered all the information for a moment, "I must thank you for being cooperative, but there is still the matter of how you can be here... and be from a land that is not of Arda."

"Question." she raised a hand.

"Yes?"

"What is Arda?"

He blinked once, "Arda is the name of this world."

"Huh. We call it Hydaelyn."

With a narrowing of his eyes Gandalf started to wander. "How did you come here?"

H'anigi exhaled as though relieved that the conversation had finally reached this point. "To start, back home every city and several settlements include a crystal formation we call aetherytes. We can use those when we need to travel quickly to instantly be whisked away to another. Was on the way back to my home village when the aetheryte I used gave out. Instead of home, I and a poor sod who died ended up in the bowels of that mountain over yonder. And that's where I met Bilbo."

"Hm. Has such an accident ever happened before?"

"Never heard of the like, for obvious reasons I suppose." she shrugged, "Anyway, the aetheryte I ended up with is unusable and I got to find another one. Bilbo said the dwarves know much about the kind of thing, so I broke off a fragment to show."

Gandalf could not help but think of how convenient such crystals would be, able to provide instantaneous travel. Never having seen the like, he looked past his shoulder at the quiet dwarves who had arrived at much the same point of fascination and confusion. It did not take long before Balin stepped up to stand next to him and extended a hand to her, "May I see it?" he worded kindly.

Nodding, H'anigi pulled from a pocket an almost triangular gem that filled her palm. It glittered with a strange blue light and shone with the light as though from a carpet of stars. A most intriguing crystal that is. Balin accepted it gently and looked stunned as he turned and looked over it at length.

"Well?" Bilbo asked as the studying dragged out for a short while.

"I..." Balin whispered and wiped a handkerchief he brought out across his forehead, thoroughly astonished. "This is... quite unlike anything I have ever seen, yet this intensity from within this... There is only one object in all of middle-earth in which I have ever witnessed it before."

"Where?" H'anigi asked hopefully.

Scrunching his face, he looked in amazement at Thorin, "The heart of the mountain, the Arkenstone."

"Impossible." Thorin took the gem and took a long look at it that ended with undeniable recognition, "Does this mean... there is a heart in every mountain?"

"In every mountain an Arkenstone. A discovery of the ages." Balin mouthed, "And from where she came... there are Arkenstones in many villages."

"I can by now verify at least," Gandalf grimly said. The implication of this discovery was massive, but one not nearly comparable in scale to a fact that became overwhelmingly apparent to what H'anigi had shared. "that H'anigi Tohl here does not at all come from Arda, but from a different realm altogether. A wholly different world."

The miqo'te was stunned, her posture freezing up as the size of her predicament became truly apparent. An expression shared by every person present. All of them believed Arda to be the only one, but there exist another – Hydaelyn – and perhaps an infinite number of others. It was unbelievable but the facts piled up before their eyes. It occurred to Gandalf this information needed to be told in full knowledge that Saruman would probably think he's gone as mad as Radagast.

"And to return home, H'anigi need to access another aetheryte. In this case... the Arkenstone."

Thorin looked to Gandalf seriously, "You seek to include the female to this journey of ours?"

"Where else can she go?" he returned simply.

"Are you aware if she will not hinder us?"

"Is it not the same you thought of Bilbo?"

"That..." he looked to the hobbit.

Bilbo nodded, "She knows how to fight, I can attest."

Still a little skeptical, Thorin looked to the female, "Do you have experience in combat and travels across the land?"

"Hunting and travel by extension comes natural to my kind." she informed bluntly, "As for my fighting experience, for most of my years in Limsa Lominsa I worked as a Marauder." and brandished easily her bloodied iron axe. Now that it was more clearly shown it held not only the blood of orcs but also that of goblins. Some hair mixed in with the drying liquid indicated it has seen use on warg flesh also. "Was good enough back then to be called the Black Axe. For the last couple of years before my recent attempt at homecoming I distanced myself from that past by working as a miner, but my hand has not slipped an ilm."

With a flourish she pulled out the other seeming weapon on her back and brandished it likewise in a manner that saw its strange head come up and connect into a recognizable head of a pickaxe. All of a sudden several dwarves seemed to nod in approval. Even Thorin was rendered thoughtful, "I expect to discover your worth then on the road ahead then, H'anigi Tohl. But for now we ought to move on. We have tarried here long enough."

A rumble of agreement spread while Bilbo lent the female a hand to help her up. Gandalf nodded at it all, "I agree. Down and away we go with great haste."

 _OoOoO_

Besides the start of it – how they managed to get down from that tower of stone the fewer words spent the better – this day and the next two passed easily along as they traveled down what remained of the mountainside. With time spent on their little interrogation there was simply no more for words to be expended, reducing chatter amongst the group to only bare necessity.

It suited the lone miqo'te among them just fine as she traversed the rough landscape alongside them. A period where the fullest implication of where she had ended up. She had thought this was just some far-away place from where she could return home given time even if there are found to be no aetherytes to use.

But for the fates to land her in an entirely different world altogether?

 _No way!_ H'anigi had thought sourly, and since fought to come to terms with that development. Some would say the others dealt with all the gleamed knowledge better, but what would they know about the prospect of being completely stranded. The only hope for her future lay in what Balin referred to as the 'Arkenstone'. And if it prove no better than the prior, life for her would be spent as a curiosity for the natives with lack of hope of going home.

And no hope to find a fine and strong a Nunh to pile in a litter with, as was her most desired plan.

These thoughts haunted her for a time, but much to her private gratitude faded as this journey demanded her attention all the more with how little rest was allowed. Nothing particular happened for all that time, but when a stop was finally called for some time into the third evening down on a withered path in a particularly rocky and hilly terrain. So set had she been on the path by then that all that stopped her dead in her track before she could acknowledge the call was the sudden grab of her tail by a gruff Glóin who even had the audacity to pull it. Every ear in reach came to hurt as H'anigi gave a keening shriek at the pain of it. And he who received the brunt of it regretted his action the soonest.

"Hush woman, hush!" he groaned in pain and let go in favor of clutching the sides of his head instead.

H'anigi whipped around at him, hissing in a very catty fashion, "Don't you _ever_ try that again!"

"Done!" Glóin lamented, "Pray, do not shout."

"I'll give you a thrice-damned shout!"

"Enough!" Thorin tersely cried, "Do not fight. We only wait until Bilbo returns."

She was not aware that the midlander had been sent away, but asked no question. A few muttered whispers amongst the company indicated a sneaking fear that whatever those creatures from before were are close to catching up despite the distance there yet should be. And for the sake of knowing Bilbo had been sent away and up high to either confirm or allay their fears. Yet it would seem the former it was bound to be as after some time of wait a rather stricken Bilbo descended on them.

"How close is the pack?" the leading dwarf demanded.

Bilbo breathed gravely as he came to a stop among them, "Too close. A couple of leagues, no more. But that's not the worst of it."

 _Not the worst?_ H'anigi could scarcely on short notice imagine much worse at the moment than how hungry those huge wolves must be after the effort of crossing such distance in a mere couple of days.

"Have the wargs picked up on our scent?"

"Not yet. But they will do... We have another problem..."

"Did they see you?" Gandalf inquired, and as Bilbo turned to him continued, "They saw you?"

"No, that's not it."

"What did I tell you?" he addressed the whole company, the tone a confident one, "Quiet as a mouse. Excellent burglar material."

"Less advertising," the miqo'te complained, "and more telling us whatever is worse." _Please do not give me cause to imagine you an overgrown lalafell..._

"Thank you." Bilbo said gratefully, "Something else is out there. A bear, some really huge bear."

All the dwarves were rendered quiet at that. Gandalf seemed the most alarmed, "A bear?"

"Yes! A massive one!"

Bofur spoke up next, "You know of this beast?"

Wordlessly, the elder turned and walked away a step in deep thought. Bilbo not very helpfully suggested they double back, a suggestion immediately shot down by Thorin. "There is a house..." Gandalf finally said, silencing the chatter that built up, "... It's not far from here, where we might take refuge."

"Whose house?" the dwarf leader asked from next to Gloin who still rubbed his sore ears, "Are they friend or foe?"

"Neither." he said in all seriousness, "He will help us... or kill us."

"Any third option?" H'anigi found herself ask aloud, and was deafened by an almost unnatural roar that seemed to shake the land. It was a thin relief that the creature Bilbo saw was nowhere in sight.

Gandalf did not even twitch like the rest did, instead he answered a grim, "None." that punctuated that terrible sound. And likewise it heralded who knows how many more hours to run.

 _OoOoO_

Never once in his life had Bilbo ever wondered if there is a point when the legs do fall off from sheer exhaustion, but now he had started to wonder. By that time in the hills they had gone on for most of the next day with next to no rest, and since that time there passed several more hours with even less as they traversed away from the treacherous mountain terrain and into then across a great valley where they traveled in a disorganized group which only point of formation was the direction they all shared across glittering rivers, and beautiful grasslands teeming with flowers.

So many sights that he thought would be great a place to simply take time to look around if it was not for the impending danger that could come at any moment. Bilbo appreciated these new surroundings away from the mountains but appreciated living more.

It was a pity, really.

Eventually the grasslands ended in favor of a forest. It was only when they had advanced far into it that the very same roar from days ago echoed through the winds. Only cause for amusement was how H'anigi's ears flicked at the grating noise. Of them all bar Gandalf she seemed the least exhausted though Bilbo guessed she'd hand a sack of gold for a safe dwelling and a soft bed to sleep deeply in if given the chance.

The wizard rallied them with shouts of haste that seemed to whip the company into a running frenzy. Only the poor fat Bombur hesitated, mesmerized by the massive bear's roar until Thorin grabbed and dragged him along. Hopefully it did no better favor for the pursuing orcs.

Thankfully not much distance remained and soon they emerged into a wide and far-stretched clearing broken only by a patch of bushes and trees that neatly fenced in the homely house. The dwelling that Gandalf had referred to in those days past. Doubly as good a relief was it to finally have found it when they entered the premises, just in time to see the gigantic beast he had before seen barrel out of the treeline they came from. No doubt would their lives be forfeit if they did not get in this instant.

Full of fear primal in its intensity they all rushed in and hurried to slam the door shut before it could do the same. Bilbo participated like they all did as the bear slammed at the closing door with enough force to stuff the front of its elongated head through the opening, and with its enormous strength tried to force its way in.

"Push!" someone called, for once Bilbo was unable to tell who did.

 _OoOoO_

While Bilbo said it was huge, H'anigi never thought it would be this big and stared wistfully up at the massive snarling head. Bears back in Eorzea could grow big too, but this one is in a whole class of its own. There was absolutely no way thirteen dwarves and a midlander could force this entrance shut on that mountain of muscle. Desperate to avoid the ignoble fate of ending in the stomach of such a beast, H'anigi used the only point of weakness apparent.

"Halone, grant me strength!"

She hopped back a few steps, ran forward, and with a yowling battle cry of her own almost flew as she planted the heel of her boot against its snout in a kick that used every ilm of her powerful legs that finally made the bear relent with a howl of surprise and backed away just enough a distance so the dwarves with a furious chorus finally managed to shut the door and locked it.

In this effort's wake, Óri asked a bewildered, "What was... that?!"

Gandalf grimaced, "That is... our host."

And they all stared, and Óri added, "Could have told us that in the first place..."

H'anigi who had without hesitation kicked the bear's nose took a rather meek stance at the knowledge, "Does that mean I'm in trouble?"

"Hopefully not." the old man sighed, "You are most definitely not from around here, so he may show leniency."

"He better." Thorin grumbled as he left the door and stretched a hand onto her shoulder, "Her bloody good kick just saved our hides. So does this 'host' of ours have any name?"

Gandalf nodded with wry humor, "His name is Beorn, and he is a skin-changer. Sometimes he's in the form of a huge black bear. Sometimes he's a great strong man. The bear is unpredictable, but the man can be reasoned with."

Great indeed. Now that she could take a look around at the dwelling's interior much of the furniture was shaped to size that even for Roegadyn would be slightly over the top. It looked nice though and even included a fair number of livestock that seemed to wander freely.

"However..." the old man added in a warning sort of tone as the dwarves scattered to examine the place, "He is not overfond of dwarves."

Grumbles rose among the company about how nothing about Beorn sounded natural, derisive things Gandalf was quick to counter and shush down before he bade for them all to go get some sleep. A suggestion that was met with no protest. The dwarves one by one found blankets and furs to wrap themselves on the wooden floor. H'anigi found herself a pleasant fur and laid herself on a comfortable pile of hay. It was nowhere comparable to the beds at the Drowning Wench, but right now after a full day and then some of ceaseless sprinting it was a luxury worthy of praise. Soon as she had curled up into a position of comfort she was already deep in heavenly sleep.

Only twice did she unconsciously twitch through the night, and no more as exhaustion demanded so. Once when for a moment the consumption of aether from Bilbo's ring heightened unnaturally as though it inhaled and spoke, and when the door opened to let in a man of great height who sniffed deeply and looked about curiously like he searched for the origin of a scent he had never before picked up.

 _OoOoO_

For all the suddenness of their entry into his premises and general dislike for dwarves Beorn readily treated them to breakfast and appeared calm and collected in stark contrast to his beast form. H'anigi did not spare much ear for the conversation about how 'orcs' are growing in number across the region, of how dangerous their road is... yet how important it is to cross it before the time of what was called 'Durin's Day'. She had no knowledge of this world other than what was immediately around her, so she spared no effort to argue about their path.

Her tail flicked idly as she nibbled on her share of the feast provided. Bread, honey, cheese. All of these proved to be very good and fresh. Some other drink but milk straight from the cow would have been good, but nothing else was on the table.

H'anigi would have spared a question on the subject of these 'elves' referred to, but her attention lay more on their host who spent much of the time glancing in her direction. "Do I seem that much interesting to you?" she eventually blurted out as a flick of her ears drew his thoughtful gaze once again.

"Evidently." Beorn replied just as calmly except the raise of a bushy brow, "Among these sits a woman of the likes I have never seen. One to whom I have yet to be introduced."

"To satisfy your curiosity..." she sighed after the swallowing of a mouthful of bread and cheese – thankful that he had not at all brought up the kick she delivered on his nose. "My name is H'anigi Tohl and my home is on a different world entirely. And the key to my homecoming lie at this journey's end."

"Most curious." he blinked thrice and looked briefly around the table for confirmation, to which several bearded heads nodded, "Certainly if we had the time I would inquire for tales about your home. Given the predicament of you and your companions though I regret to admit this must not be a prosperous time for such. And while I have no fondness for dwarves, I hate orcs far more." Beorn looked solemnly to the seated Thorin who looked back, "What do you need?"

 _OoOoO_

"Go now. While you still have the light. Your hunters are not far behind."

With that last farewell they ventured forth and took only till midday to arrive at the edge of Mirkwood. Beorn had been generous enough to lend them mounts for the voyage to at least this very point for no further did the skin-changer wish for them to go. Any further would only risk his wrath as every step of the way from far behind Beorn had followed and watched from afar to make sure the promise was kept.

After the conversation that led to that simple point, along with Bilbo's commentary that the forest seemed as though diseased. Gandalf quietly agreed with that grave observation as he surveyed the forest thoughtfully while advancing into the ancient elven gate that has not seen tenders for a long time, covered by foliage as it is. No attention given to the amused laughs that went on behind him at how the miqo'te limped as she disembarked, rubbing palms across her sore back.

Instead his attention lay on a statue covered in foliage as though called to it. Deliberately he reached forward and tore a patch from it to reveal a mark that once spread fear by its very sighting. The blood-red image of a crudely drawn eye. A grim discovery that was followed by whispers in the wind that reached into his very thoughts. An elvish presence imposed itself gently, that of the elven Queen Galadriel. And her purpose for reaching out to him was serious by all indication.

Soundlessly he opened his mind to her words, and knew what he must next do. What must be done though loath he was to leave this company. A consideration to pass on to her what he learned from its newest member came to mind, yet alas her thoughts had already wafted away. Gandalf accepted that there was a time for everything as he considered his next destination aloud:

"... The High Fells."

 _OoOoO_

"Lend me a chocobo any day..." H'anigi hissed in obvious pain as she fought to straighten herself up after that horrible experience. Tales spoke of four-legged mounts used in distant lands, none of which sounded wondrous any longer now with several hours too long spent on that monster lent by Beorn. Now her butt hurt, her thighs ached, and the innards felt jumbled and shaken. Yet again had Arda provided a beast she would rather not try again.

"Huh." Kili stopped close by, "And what's a chocobo?"

"Big bird with golden feathers. Doesn't fly, runs fast." the miqo'te stood rigid sudden enough that a crick nearly asserted itself to further her misery, "...Much more agreeable."

"Sounds really odd to me." Fili tossed his opinion about, to which his brother nodded in agreement. H'anigi did not listen though as she glared at the cause of her start. Once again the distant wizard had bloomed into a cloud of aether, something that still rang through her as steeply unnatural. Even more reason-defying was how something attached itself to that cloud; a trail of aether that came from nowhere and latched itself onto the wizard. Briefly H'anigi wished her senses could not perceive aether so startlingly well that if not for her preference for the hands-on approach would have landed her in the Arcanist Guild, just so she would not notice either of these impossibilities.

 _It's such a drag..._

Like Gandalf previously recommended prior to his reverie over there, she released the pony so it could return to Beorn. Not in the least sad to see it go. It was quickly joined as the grumbling dwarves let go of the ponies one by one. All of them would have preferred to keep the beasts, but fear of Beorn's wrath skewered any indecision. With a turn away, the miqo'te labored to walk and work out what was left of the kinks in her limbs til she came to eye Bilbo who stood as though transfixed by something, distant, still as a rock or a tree. Concerned for the short man led her thus to put a delicate though calloused hand onto his left shoulder that almost made him jump his height's worth into the air as he snapped from the trance, "Is there something wrong, Bilbo?" H'anigi inquired worriedly, but narrowed her eyes into a frown as she spotted the ring held high in his hand.

So fixed had her senses been on Gandalf that she had not noticed the ring's flurry of 'activity'. It pulsed as though it implored - like it has a mind of its own. An utter impossibility that not at all offered to put her mind at ease. The image of a smiling blonde midlander, pleased with success to perform a full swing with the great axe in hand at long last after weeks of futile exercises crossed her mind's eye. It left a sour taste on her tongue, and she was instantly regretful that she did not tell him to have that ring thrown away once they were out of the mountain. She had thought it was one of the myriad accessories beneficial to their wearers, but it seemed she was severely mistaken.

"N-no, nothing's wrong." he spouted hurriedly and dropped the ring back into his pocket like it was as much a reflexive action as a deliberate one.

She was not deterred, "You can talk to me if there is anything."

Bilbo shook his head, "I'm fine."

"You stood as still as a rock. What was it that ring inflicted on you?" the miqo'te pressed uneasily, the image of Gollum on her mind.

"Nothing happened." he insisted tersely, "I was just... thinking."

"What about?"

"... Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Bilbo..."

"Please, there's nothing wrong with me."

H'anigi held his gaze for a short moment and with great reluctance sighed, "Fine, I'll let it go for now. But take heed my friend, most magical items can be of great help... but not all of them are what they seem. A few may carry a curse about them, all that is not to your best."

Bilbo frowned with brief consideration and nodded, "I will keep that in mind. Just..."

"Yes?"

"Just don't tell the others about it."

"I won't... but I will if that acts up again."

"Promise?" Bilbo eyed and asked.

H'anigi looked back wryly and stepped away, for much the same reason that had led her to this spot, "Miner's honor." Deeply hopeful that her fear about the ring was ill-placed and she just imagined things... and if she wasn't, that he would have the sense to pick up on it and ask for help eventually.

By now only the horse given to Gandalf remained and the dwarves were about to set it loose when a shout rose from the woods. The wizard emerged with clear urgency for some reason or other. Probably something to do with that strange event from before, "Not my horse. I need it!"

As though cast by a spell a cloud of unease settled on the lot. Several dwarves seemed miffed at the implication that the wizard would ride while they were denied. Bilbo, however, shocked in his expression seemed to catch on faster, "You're leaving us?"

"I would not do this unless I had to." Gandalf replied in sincere regret and stopped just next to the shorter man and appraised him with a sidelong glance, "You've changed... Bilbo Baggins. You're not the same Hobbit as the one who left the Shire."

 _Hobbit?_ H'anigi grimaced in thought. "So he isn't just a short-grown midlander?"

"Midlander?" a confused Bombur asked, "Pray tell lass, what are you talking about?"

She sighed deeply, "Never mind."

"I was going to tell you..." Bilbo blurted out with an absent finger extended into the pocket in which he kept the ring. Whether he was aware of this or not, the wizard looked back down expectantly, "I... found something in the Goblin tunnels."

"Found what?" Gandalf tilted his head forward and further asked when Bilbo hesitated, "What did you find?"

"My courage."

H'anigi almost did a double take. The promise was not even a minute old and he seemed for that instant certain that he would already reveal of the ring's existence, but at the last moment twisted himself away.

Gandalf nodded like he expected something else, "Good. Well, that's good." and added, "You'll need it." before he finally made through the company for the horse that remained and addressed Thorin, "I'll be waiting for you at the overlook, before the slopes of Erebor. Keep the map and key safe." and fixed the lead dwarf with a warning look, "Do not enter that mountain without me." and finally climbed atop his steed from where he continued, "This is not the Greenwood of old. The very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It'll seek to enter your mind and lead you astray."

"Lead us astray?" Bilbo mouthed, "What does that mean?"

"A legend of Limsa Lominsa says that out in the oceans exist a spirit known as a Siren. She sings a song that bewitches the crews of whole ships and makes them run their ships aground or leap overboard to their drowning deaths." the miqo'te absently described, "Something like that perhaps."

"You understand." Gandalf smiled, appraising, "This is much like that, for you must stay on the path. Never stray from it. If you do... you'll never find it again." and started to leave, all the while still hollering his warning, "No matter what may come... stay on the path!"

Thorin growled and took point, "Come on." he told the company sternly, "We must reach the mountain before the sun sets on Durin's day!"

"Let's go!" Bofur called to those more distant, urging them to follow.

"It is our one chance to find the hidden door!"

Warning and motivation both delivered, H'anigi fell in step with the dwarves, hobbit, and realized with a thinly veiled smile that she is the tallest one here now. A little humor to lift her mood as a prelude to the grimness that this forest would undoubtedly offer. By all indication this forest would be far worse than the mountain that lay behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Dancing in the Woods**

* * *

Mirkwood was by every measure a dreary place to be, its only luxury over the Misty Mountain being the absence of goblins. There should of been fresh air in this place, but the forest felt like it sucked all of that away like some of the worse money-grabbers would a slew of coins. It made for a journey more or less devoid of joy as they for days marched along the thin forest path.

Kili did not trust the forest an inch and was positive that every soul that walked in their single file line thought the same to the point some would have shouted with relief if some goblins did show up, just to break up the tedium of endless monotony in these lifeless woods.

"What I would give for some meat." Glóin muttered ahead of him, many tired of the rations that they conserved the best they could with how little actual plant-life existed, and the absence of animals.

"Likewise." Dwalin agreed.

"Be quiet." Bombur lamented, hanging around at the very rear, "I am hungry enough as it is."

"A deer, I can see one!" Óin called from ahead after another while had passed and gleefully pointed into the distance where Kili could clearly see a deer graze peacefully, "Quickly, shoot it!"

As the company came to a halt Fili took from his brother's back the bow and readied an arrow, a projectile ready to be sent at the animal in anticipation for some delicious venison when a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and prompted him to not shoot, at which the deer pranced away. "Ah!"

Glóin and Dori groaned in dismay, "Why in the world did you stop him?" the latter found his voice to demand.

Kili was just as confounded but his perplexity faded as he focused on the one who had kept his brother from unleashing that arrow. In his eyes the female that called herself a Miqo'te, H'anigi Tohl, had long since ceased to be an oddity, instead he more appreciated her presence if at the beginning more for her exotic beauty that was both familiar yet altogether different. And secretly he sort of wished to see this society in which most are women, something very different from dwarven society in which females are few and further between.

Appreciation however acquired respect as a companion as she kept up with them very easily, more often was the case if they could keep up with _her_. His respect for her rose further at the kick delivered that sent Beorn in his gargantuan bear shape reeling. And all good things being three, neither were as big a boost as when H'anigi more or less began to participate all the more. Mostly to drag individual dwarves back onto the path when he or they started to stray with a slap for good measure if they tried to resist the motion.

One of those happened to be Dori, who shut up succinctly when H'anigi fixed her strangely colored eyes stern in their intensity on him. "There was no deer." she claimed, "And even if there was, Gandalf forbade us from leaving the path."

Kili and his brother Fili had the sharpest eyes among the dwarves, but keen senses did not seem to avail them at all in this accursed forest. She on the other hand had no such impediment, and only occasionally did she do something nonsensical and then only to tilt her body or side-step. Seemingly random movements that he as one of the only ones identified as less a cause of any kind of illusion or dizziness than outright attempts to avoid or dodge as though she could perceive something the rest of them are oblivious to. An example of that happened just hours before when she abruptly stiffened and jumped to the side, seconds later Bifur who walked right in front of her began to wave a hand in front of himself like he could no longer see anything up ahead.

"We all saw the deer." Dwalin sounded puzzled as Thorin waved them on, "How in the world did you discern it as an illusion?"

"How can all of you _not_ notice...!?" H'anigi intoned in annoyed disbelief, "The aether is so thick in this forest I can see it with my naked eye."

The old dwarf was further confused, "Aether?"

A sigh. "Aether is the source of all magic and life. Everything is made of it. Our bodies, the very ground we walk on. It's also in the very air, and other than Gandalf when he's doing his weird magic I have seen no concentrations of it denser than it is in here."

"So dense concentrations of it is... bad?"

"Aye, all the instability it can inflict on the mind and body."

Balin brushed a hand through his beard in grave thought, "The illusions..."

"Exactly."

"Is it a common skill with your people, to see this... aether?"

She scoffed, "Everyone in Eorzea can perceive aether to _some_ extent. I'm surprised you can't."

"H'anigi..." Bilbo spoke up from two spots behind Kili.

"Yes Bilbo?"

"I'm just wondering... what did you mean when you called Gandalf's magic... 'weird'?"

The miqo'te rubbed her forehead as she took a steadying breath and exhaled at the thought of it, "Because what magic-users do to perform their spells is by amassing aether to the item that serves as their focus, usually staffs or tomes. Gandalf is wholly different on a profound level, he actually produce and ooze aether in enormous quantity whenever he channels a spell. It's something I've never heard of or seen before." and she shuddered, "It is... utterly unnatural. Just... what in the world _is_ he?!"

"A wizard." was the simplest answer Bilbo could think of, and was likewise that for every dwarf who listened in. No one among the mortal races went any deeper into it for the Istari are a boon to whoever they choose to aid.

"I know that at the very least." H'anigi slumped and answered no more, alone with her thoughts.

"Much to contemplate." Dwalin quietly appraised what they learned, "Do you not agree, Thorin?"

"To the fullest do I agree." Thorin said, "Sooner we leave this forest the better! Full march forward, no rest till night!"

No one argued with that decision as they continued to plow on along the narrowly tiled path that zigzagged through the forested terrain, and Kili heartily agreed with the course of action, even if anxious. A part of him simply wanted to rush through the remaining leagues without rest and get this over with. Now that he was aware that there is something here that can actually confound them, there was a certain instability he just could not shake. Worse, he dared not ask but what if this concentration of aether could grow even worse?

 _OoOoO_

 _Someone jinxed us. I do not know who, but someone surely did_. H'anigi knew she was being unfair from thinking about it, but she just could not help it. A night's sleep on the path has not done them any favor and already before they set out again she had a very bad feeling about this day. It had relatively little to do with how the dwarves now collectively looked to her as miners do their canary. Namely, her reaction to their surroundings is proportional to their own safety.

And right now, her mind was frayed from a sort of panic.

It had nothing to do with the weight of responsibility cause Thal knows she has been on that road before. What bristled her fur was the miasma around them that sifted and wafted and danced lazily through the air. Countless facets were imbedded into these clouds of densely packed aether that shifted, moved, and rotated like a twisted kaleidoscope. Worse, it was the amount of it.

Already yesterday the amount of aether in the air had completely astounded and shocked her. This day did its twelves-damned best to prove it could grow only worse. And boy, did it deliver. Not that anyone has any reason to celebrate.

The terrain, all around them, was utterly clogged with the gloomy miasma and looked ready to come in and smother them in its embrace. Something that seemed increasingly likely as the day progressed, and degraded.

Early on there were only a few cases of disturbance. Last among them being Bombur who had begun to doze and talk endlessly of food, describing each dish to such detail that it was all she could do to keep herself from salivating before she snapped him out of it. But that was when it happened, while she was preoccupied a vast carpet of aether smothered them all. Panic momentarily triggered as it wrapped around her form and induced a state of daze. The miqo'te could have sworn it lasted only for a couple of seconds, yet that was all it took as next she bumped against an abruptly halted and eminently bewildered Fili, and in turn was collided against by an equally surprised Bombur who almost toppled her and Fili both.

"Why did you stop?" Thorin uttered in barely restrained annoyance to Bofur who had taken point from the onset.

"The path..." the dwarf pointed ahead. A pit had appeared in front of them from seemingly out of nowhere, "It is gone..."

H'anigi looked down and mewled a groan at the lack of tiles. "We aren't on the path at all."

"Damn!" Thorin cursed as he and the others already spread out to look for it, but to no avail. It was nowhere in sight. "Fan out, find the path!" he ordered despite it.

"Why did you not warn us?" Dwalin called angrily to the equally frustrated miqo'te who had by then turned to look the way they came, through the miasma that persisted. So much of it in the air that it was useless to avoid, so she no longer even tried. He stomped on over to stop her, until Bilbo stood in his way.

"She was just as affected as the rest of us," the hobbit claimed, "it's not her fault!"

"Yet she is the one of us who could see that... aether coming!"

H'anigi gritted her teeth furiously, angry at both this forest and herself. "It pounced on all of us while I was distracted with Bombur." she clarified to just about everyone in earshot, and so did not mask her frustration. "I cannot believe this. The aether moved like something guided it along."

A sort of realization seemed to dawn on Dwalin as he considered that, "Elves. Must be. There are tales of an elf-witch from somewhere in these parts. It must be her!"

"I'll take your word for it." she parted her lips to sigh, "Doesn't point out..."

"Uh... H'anigi, Dwalin?" Bilbo nervously interjected, his attention anywhere but on them.

"What is it now?" the dwarf complained.

"..." H'anigi followed where the hobbit looked, and had a really bad feeling. "Where is everyone else?"

"What?!" Dwalin understood and was outraged in his concern. All of a sudden the three of them appeared to stand much alone in this clearing. Not one other dwarf in sight. Somewhere down the line the aether affected them again for there was no way the others could possibly have vanished already. "We can not be scattered. Not now!"

He was about to run off to find the others, but the hobbit grabbed and managed just barely to stop him from dragging him across the field much to the miqo'te's brief amusement. "No no no! Don't go running off!" Bilbo protested.

"And how do you suppose we'll find them then?"

"... I have an idea."

 _OoOoO_

Bilbo's solution to their problem was simple enough. It was the best to come to mind in the recent moment of tremendous hurry to keep Dwalin from completing the set of lost dwarves. And the interest of making sure that everyone gets out of this place together is why he now climbed the tallest nearby tree while H'anigi and Dwalin waited for him down on the ground. An unexpectedly arduous effort, but still he climbed and ascended nimbly. He had enough climbing practice from his youth, he suspected, that there is no tree he could not reach the top of.

Or, well, _almost_ , that is.

Soon when he gained enough of a commanding view, the hobbit began to look outward. To spot for any sign of the other dwarves. If he found one or more, he would call for them to stop... then they would assemble the company component by component. Once everyone is back together, he would find the tallest tree to see above the forest canopy and judge which way to travel. Then repeat the action further along.

It was simple enough a plan that he wondered why it had not come to mind sooner. But no use crying over spilled tea.

What soon worried him though, was the overwhelming lack of dwarves in sight. Surely they could not have wandered that far already? Bilbo was not at all glad to deliver sour news, so he tried to climb a little higher... and hope.

Except, what he did find above did not conform to any definition of hope as his left hand landed and brushed against the exceedingly less than pleasing frame of a branch covered in cobwebs that seemed to stretch upward then into the distance. It was extremely gross and he quickly retracted his sullied hand, not at all eager to have the limb covered in carcasses and little eight-legged creatures. A clean hand indicated a clean save, a small mercy that he at least could revel in before heading down, until it became apparent the cobweb was a trigger. A trap for travelers who had the same idea he did. Bilbo froze in terror as something blurred from the darkness ahead, scuttling toward him.

It took less than a second before he realized it was a spider, giant beyond belief, and lost his grip in sheer horror that was cemented as the hideous creature caught him and started to roll and toss him around, draping a cocoon around as it did.

His capture imminent, Bilbo found his voice long enough to cry out.

 _OoOoO_

Dwalin and the miqo'te, both of whom had stood by with arms crossed as they waited, tossed their collective gaze up when a clearly fearful cry echoed from above – a prelude to the appearance of a spidery creature of enormous proportions with a writhing cocoon for grisly cargo. "Bilbo!" H'anigi shouted urgently, her hair bristled and tail swished in obvious shock and anger.

It stopped just long enough to gaze down at them with its disgustingly large array of eyes before it whipped around and scuttled off. At the same time H'anigi did, Dwalin dashed onward in pursuit with the same goal in mind. Not just because Bilbo had earned the company's trust, and especially Thorin's friendship, not just because the hobbit's plan was good. A large part of the reason was that the manner of Bilbo's abduction had clued him in on what may have happened to the others. Scattered and alone, every dwarf out there was bound to be perfect prey for spiders in hiding – cause surely these evil woods must be host to many more.

While he brushed through every piece of foliage in his path, next to him, if slightly further ahead, H'anigi nimbly navigated the uneven terrain already with her battle axe in hand and an expression of barely restrained fury.

"Don't catch up too fast, woman!" Dwalin huffed.

"What?" H'anigi witheringly glared.

"Everyone else could also be captured by its like. If there is a spider colony someplace ahead, Thorin and the others could be there – or on the way – too."

She growled, "Fine, but I won't make the run easy on it! And if it tries as much as bite Bilbo I _will_ go postal on it! Got it?!"

"Aye." Dwalin agreed as he hefted his war hammer, admiring briefly that look of perfect fury. "I plan to do much the same. No one touches my comrades and gets away with it!"

"We are of one mind then."

"Yes, we are."

For a while their chase continued, and the longer they went the more cobwebs seemed to be integrated into the terrain. It would seem up ahead there truly is a spider colony. "What of the aether, any of it here?"

"It's thinning." H'anigi grimly replied, "Maybe it's focused along that trail..."

"So long it stays off our backs I don't care where it is!" Dwalin nodded, "For we are about to have company."

Truly it was the case as from the treetops a swarm of spiders descended to allow their burdened kin to escape with the meal, and while at it snatch up the morsels that have proven foolish enough to march toward their very lair. "Ah, more prey!" one of them clicked eagerly as it came to ground, only to find its face full of a raging dwarf who promptly smashed it in with a deft blow of his hammer.

Limply it crumpled and he observed surprise among the spiders, apparently not used to see their prey fight back. Whether that was the reason he made the most of it as he rushed to a clearly hesitant one and bashed it the same as he did the first. If these expected to find him easy prey, he was every bit prepared to disappoint them.

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi has never fought creatures like these before, but she took to dispatching them with great vigor. Already three lay dead or dying beside her, and she quickly sought new opponents after each that fell. They were surrounded by far too many of these hideous creatures to chase after the wounded, so she sought to hurt just as much as she searched for the opportunity to deliver a killing blow. Her fourth was most accommodating, and she swung her whole body to bring her weapon the momentum needed to cleave its head down the middle. Not even a cry could be uttered by the dying monster and instead spurted its blood from the deep wound as it collapsed, limp as a rag doll.

For the next she swung again, this time side-ward in a wide arc that saw one foreleg severed, its front-most set of eyes destroyed, and broke the other foreleg. Not a mortal wound, but the thing screeched in agony as it clumsily withdrew. Those around it likewise pulled back, utterly spooked as they shrieked in panic.

One of the thinning numbers that stayed tried to take her from behind. Promptly she planted her axe into its face. From this angle it was not at all enough to make a breakthrough, but a solid kick drove the head of her weapon all the way through.

"Together!" Dwalin barked.

H'anigi pulled her weapon free from the carcass, and held it high as she withdrew to stand back to back with the dwarf who did likewise. An act that seemed to embolden the spiders brave enough to stay. A total of five out of a number that used to be about twenty, before wounds, deaths and cowardice took their collective toll.

As one they surged to pounce, "Scatter!" Dwalin called and he drove his hammer into a spider hard enough to make it flip over, exposing its vulnerable belly to the furious dwarf. H'anigi darted to the side of a particularly confident spider and with a swipe took three of its limbs off before she swung in a high arc and hacked deep into its thorax. Dwalin after killing the belly-up spider shattered the legs off another one or two at a time before he went for the kill. H'anigi kicked hard against her next that had managed to come far too close for comfort, and cut into its ugly face deeply enough that when she hoist her weapon free it lost its nerve and fell away.

Only one remained to challenge them. A big one that was assumed to be female, it came at them both with the assumed goal in mind to bowl them over. Neither miqo'te nor dwarf were willing to play along and with a battle cry that tore from each their throats they swung together. Their weapons came within an inch of one another, and together met with the spider in an orgy of violence that smashed its misbegotten face deep into the thorax and hurled it back, dead before it tumbled to a stop.

"Not a bad start!" Dwalin appraised the dead spiders scattered around them in various states of bodily ruin.

H'anigi breathed as rose to her full height and looked to her axe, stained black with blood and gore. It was far from an alien sight, but it was noticeably blacker this time around. Probably part for the course. "Indeed it's not." she lowered it and looked into the distance, "But we aren't half done."

"Aye," he glanced about, "and nowhere is that bastard in sight."

"Nothing we can do but follow the cobwebs."

Dwalin nodded and they with weapons still clutched carefully climbed past the field of slain to continue on their way. While the spiders that fled still watched from a distance, almost sure to jump back in to join the inevitable throng as they neared the hive, they simply could not be bothered with at the moment. Waste of precious effort. Instead they hurried on underneath the darkening canopies in an effort to find the others in an environment that grew increasingly murky and bizarre as they passed along.

This unnerved her severely. And well into the distance she shuddered with disgust at the occasional pile of remains huddled into various cocoons that hung precariously in the air like they could fall at literally any moment. Once when she thought the Mirkwood could no longer hurl further obscenity at her, it provided her with giant spiders. Much to her gratification however, their pursuers grew ever fewer as the wounded fell behind, and those who remained realized the further disadvantage this put them in. In no position to overwhelm the warriors they instead fell back, perhaps to seek reinforcements, until they were all gone and out of sight.

"At least there's some good news. They're not following us anymore." H'anigi made her relief palpable.

"Good." Dwalin snorted severely, "Hopefully we can find the rest before the situation change for the worse."

Reassured they progressed for a while at a brisk pace until they arrived at a part of the woods where the trees appeared especially gnarled, not helped at all by the extensive carpets of white that stretched across and between them. Together with further darkening as the forest grew thicker, enough obstacle was provided that it slowed them down so they would not lose their balance. Now if only someone could drop a hint, to tell them they're on the right path.

A hint helpfully provided when a dead spider suddenly hit the ground in front of them, its underbelly stabbed and cut open.

Hopeful, H'anigi paced up to it and gazed to the branch far above, "Bilbo?" she called. All the dwarves carried weapons too large to leave such a small and fine cut. So the hobbit with his dagger-like sword was naturally the first to come to mind.

 _OoOoO_

Bilbo had no idea of how long he was out cold, not at all treated gently by the spider that captured him. But when he finally woke and found the creature's misbegotten mug merely inches from his face... let's just say even hobbits can boil red-hot with anger. And that consequently led him to pull his elven-made sword from its scabbard and ran it through its underbelly, much to its evident surprise.

Its grasp on the world grew weak as he drove it even further in before he finally leaned on one side and threw the dying creature off and took a moment to listen for its landing before he articulated his sword-arm and cut himself free from the bundle the late spider had put around him before any more come, and only halted in his motion when he heard the sound of his miqo'te friend's voice call out from below. Glad to not be alone in this hellish place, he was about to climb down to meet with her and Dwalin who he hoped remained with her, when he looked to the canopy above and felt his throat run dry. Above him was a network of cobwebs more massive in scope than those around him, filled with chittering spiders of all sizes that fortunately failed to hear the woman's voice, or they would have been instantly swarmed and taken. And amongst the throng he gleamed a number of hanging bundles full of captured prey. Six had already been suspended into place, with six more being hauled up to join them... one of which took some real effort to heft and bring.

Thorin and the others.

Bilbo stared at the view in abject horror. He hoped the dwarves were still out there, if lost at that, but they ended instead up in a worse predicament as the spiders argued gleefully with one another, prodding the various bundled bodies in anticipation of the meal to come. He wracked his mind for any way to save them, and decided that the most simple solution would have to do, but needed help.

"Oi!" a gruff tone demanded.

Realizing his lack of response would only provoke further calls, Bilbo to avoid discovery looked down at them and proceeded to the trunk and descended, then hopped the final few feet to tell of what he just discovered. Something temporarily put on hold as the miqo'te upon their moment of reunion pounced and brought the hobbit into a close hug that saw him face-first smothered against her ample chest. "I'm so glad you're alright, Bilbo." H'anigi told him with a bright smile, yet while this position was indeed comfortable it was hardly a timely one.

"Y-yeah." Bilbo stuttered as he wriggled free from her arms, "Sorry for the trouble."

Dwalin who stared and blinked blankly at the show of intimacy coughed and brought them back on track, "Took you long enough to get down. If I did not know better, I'd wager you've gone and seen the others."

"As a matter of fact, I did see them... they are being held by the spiders over yonder," Bilbo pointed high at where he saw them, "yet won't be for much longer. Time is short and there are a lot of them there."

"I don't care how many there are." the dwarf warrior huffed, "No one takes a bite from them on my watch!"

The hobbit reassured him quickly, "And they won't. I have a plan."

"Hope it does not hinge on you being captured again." H'anigi stated bluntly.

"Oh trust me, it doesn't."

She favored him with a meaningful look and rose to her full height, hands on her hips in a gesture of consideration, "So what do you have in mind?"

Dwalin nodded grimly, "Let's hear it."

"A simple three steps. I distract and pull the spiders away." Bilbo continued in a hurry as he crouched and started to collect rocks into his pockets, "H'anigi you climb up and when they're gone you go in and cut the bundles loose. Dwalin, you stay on the ground to receive and free them as they come down."

"A terrible height." he grunted.

"There are more than enough cobwebs between them and the ground to allow a slow soft landing, I assure you. It's not the best plan I know, but better a good plan now than a perfect plan much too late. So are you in for it?"

 _OoOoO_

With nothing better available it took no time at all to agree on Bilbo's plan. Dwalin immediately hurried off to take his position, while the hobbit climbed back up and vanished soon after, much of it thanks to his good sense for stealth... as well as that ring. H'anigi shuddered in apprehension as she sensed it being put to use, and how it more greedily ate aether in so doing. She trusted it in no way, but calmed herself with at least the knowledge that it would keep him safely hidden during this most dangerous distraction.

Finally after she figured the wait had gone on long enough, H'anigi proceeded to the same trunk and climbed into its heights till the nest entered her view. Filled with those nasty creatures that now bickered on who would get to have the first bites. If Thorin and those with him are awake, they must doubtlessly be terrified.

It took every fiber of her being not to charge in to try and save them – an urge brought up by extensive past conditioning as a Marauder. Generally, in Limsa Lominsa the will and readiness to take the initiative and act with great immediacy is actively encouraged out of simple pragmatism. For all their sturdiness seagoing vessels are surprisingly easy to damage and sink, so when a threat appears the onboard fighters must drop everything, get up, and fight at the drop of a hat. The slightest hesitation or greater haste can mean the difference between a ship still sailing and a wreck at the bottom of the ocean.

Partially hidden by the trunk she remained at, H'anigi closed her slitted eyes and counted down to the diversion that soon came about as one of the spiders shrieked at a thrown rock that struck at its abdomen, followed quickly by several more. Surprised by the attack but contemptuous, most of the creatures stalked forth on the many cobwebs that riddled the treetops to find the intruder. Most but not all as four still remained with the bundles that held all but one of the dwarves.

The miqo'te grimly readied herself for the inevitable tussle with this quartet of monsters, and was about to move forth when something danced at the air. Not a battle cry or the spidery shrieks, but a song. A song of all things, one that mocked and ridiculed the creatures.

 _Old fat spider spinning in a tree!_

 _Old fast spider can't see me!_

 _Attercop! Attercop!_

 _Won't you stop,_

 _Stop your spinning and look for me?_

 _Old Tomnoddy, all big body,_

 _Old Tomnoddy can't spy me!_

 _Attercop! Attercop!_

 _Down you drop!_

 _You'll never catch me up your tree!_

The quartet visibly seethed but did not move, instead they hurled obscenities. In due course a new song followed:

 _Lazy Lob and Crazy Cob_

 _are weaving webs to wind me,_

 _I am far more sweet than other meat,_

 _but still they cannot find me!_

 _Here am I, naughty little fly;_

 _you are fat and lazy._

 _You cannot trap me, though you try,_

 _in your cobwebs crazy._

And that did it, the spiders spun themselves into a world of hatred hitherto unimagined and utterly embroiled in their fury joined in the hunt, spitting and hurling profanity and oaths of spilled blood and rent flesh as they did. Yet still the song continued, and further away did the monstrosities go. H'anigi could not help but smile widely at the show and finally devoid of an obstacle and more than able to keep her balance began to make her way quickly across the branches between herself and them.

Each gap was navigated with a quick jump, and while a few places were more unstable the miqo'te more or less held her own and after a few more hops she finally arrived at the nest and hefted her axe in readiness as she neared the first bundle which happened to hold Ori judging by the hairstyle visible through the cobweb.

With a solid swing she severed the strand that kept it suspended and sent it to a gradual fall, and as Bilbo assured was slowed by the cobwebs below. Encouraged by how smooth things are going, she cut down the next seven bundles one after another without a hassle and ready to follow suit with the rest.

Three more followed. Those that held Glóin, Balin and Bombur. She briefly feared the latter would plummet like a sack of hammers, but unbelievable as it is, he traveled down just as lightly as the others. Those below better look up though, just to make sure his arrival does not break a few backs.

Only a few remained, and the miqo'te hurried to send them down before she would then decide what to do next. Last of these to drop was Kili judging by the shock of long black hair behind all that white. And it finally left her to go down and join with the dwarves and wait for Bilbo's return. H'anigi turned to drop down to a lower branch that just so happened to stab forth in the direction of where Bilbo took those spiders... only to come face to face with a spider that just so happened to return at precisely that moment. Like all of its kin, this spider's expression was nigh impossible to read... but if she had to guess, it now in distinct disbelief eyed her and the conspicuous absence of previously captured prey.

Another one came about a moment later and positioned itself roughly behind her. "Our prey!" it shrieked, "Where are they?!"

"Really sure you want to ask?" H'anigi put up a devious smirk, for all the precarious ground she was rather confident about her chances, "You might not like what happen next."

"Tell us, curse you!"

"How about no?"

In a shrill tone the spider bellowed from hunger and frustration then made for her across the webs, its decision to have her take their place made. The miqo'te's response was as sharp as her quick turn around, legs spread just wide to secure every bit of stability then swept her axe in an arc that raised it high in the air before she brought it down hard and cleaved it deeply into the spider's face. Its forward momentum faltered and it collapsed limply into the cobweb.

The angle was this time bad however. H'anigi found resistance as she fought to pull her weapon free from the corpse, which provided the other spider a seemingly golden opportunity as it scuttled at her in a blood rage, about to sink its fangs into her flesh. But alas, it underestimated her resourcefulness as she freed up a hand and used it to free from her back the pickaxe, had its head brought up in a single motion, and swung it as hard as she could manage with just that one arm. Not enough to kill, just enough to gain a leverage as its singular sharp point managed to almost perfectly strike into one of its largest eyes and dug deep. H'anigi twisted it for good measure to latch on as the spider reeled from this blow in abject pain, and in the process helped her pull the axe free.

With the very last figment of her foothold she leaped to tackle the withdrawing creature and in so doing completed its near flip. This had of course the little problem of them being sent into a steep fall to the ground, except unlike the spider she had a far better chance of survival as she perched on the falling creature and used it for a cushion.

It screamed and cursed and swore all the way before finally the ground was met and silenced it in a sickening crunch that crushed its exoskeleton. Atop of it, alive but winded, H'anigi lay still for a few moments before she with an ache here and there picked herself up and went to retrieve the pickaxe that had slipped from her hand.

"Ugh..." she cracked her neck in a few motions to clear the kinks, "If I never have to do that again in my life, it'll be too soon."

That sort of thing did seem to pile up an awful lot lately. Most memorable being her flight, a part of recent events she indeed wanted to forget the most. H'anigi shivered at that particular nightmare and tried to dismiss it as she soon with pickaxe secured tried to listen for the dwarves. A task not so hard as not so far away a collective murmur of creatively coarse oaths were made.

Now all they needed to do is wait for Bilbo so they can finally leave this place and hopefully soon this forest altogether. A thought she abruptly silenced a wee bit too late in fear that the place may pull a collective 'Oh, but I insist!' on them. Proven true as dirt, bark and cobwebs were shaken by a tremor that blossomed across the area, silenced the dwarves, and promised nothing good. H'anigi just barely turned her head in poorly veiled anxiety as a horde of spiders proceeded to storm past without as much as a look in her direction. The spiders in pursuit of Bilbo had returned in force, furious – but strangely diminished.

At first it seemed anger was what drove them, until a few among their rear echelons dropped, covered by finely crafted arrows and the fury suddenly smelled much more like undiluted fear. A competitor for this territory has come and none of them liked it one bit. And what followed after the creatures appeared to be an eclectic group of lithe figures shrouded by cloaks that moved from branch to brand and the occasional root determinedly deadly in their purpose.

Instinctively, H'anigi withdrew herself behind a nearby trunk and watched as they poured past without as much as a touch on the ground. She could not make out what they were, until one appeared amongst the last to blur past who had his hood down. Normally the view of a handsomely tall and lean man with long and flawlessly blonde hair would trigger reactions such as a puckish smile and rapt attentiveness.

Not in this case as she was surprised to see an Elezen. Instead of admiration the sight provoked irritation. And that irritation led to the miqo'te bumping her head against the trunk, "Why did it have to be those nancies?" she groaned, then stalked off in pursuit, pretty sure that the dwarves are in trouble and in need of saving – again.

 _OoOoO_

Bilbo had no idea what happened. He just turned a veritable corner and suddenly the whole area behind him exploded into a clamor of screams, whistles, and the crash of bodies and wood that pitched loudly then faded away. He was just barely ahead of the horde, sometimes amidst it, and now it was nowhere to be seen.

Comprehension found lacking, the hobbit paused on the next branch to properly take in some semblance of understanding. An unfortunate position as right after a spider that milled away from the clamor in complete bewilderment bumped into him and sent them both for the ground. Bilbo found a sort of familiarity with the sensation, accompanied by a feeling of intense dread along with a strange déjà vu as he landed on something soft.

"What was that?" the spider rolled across the ground, and seemed to blink with its lidless eyes as it focused on him.

Bilbo then recognized where that dread came from. His ring had been knocked off in the collision, and from it he was overcome by an obsessive need to find and claim it again as though completely unaware of the spider's existence as it stalked toward him. Only belatedly did he focus on the creature in the form of an afterthought, and finally found the ring lying in the grass between them, glinting amidst the wild grass.

As though in a trance, Bilbo stared as a pair of the spider's needle-like legs struck adjacent to the trinket, each stab as a hammer blow to his ears. The spider was completely oblivious to it, yet anger and white-hot rage filled the diminutive hobbit at the very thought of it stealing what is his.

 _It is mine!_ Bilbo thought irrationally and he brandished his elven-made sword then abruptly rushed to stab it into the spider's forehead when it came within reach, ready to sink its teeth in.

The spider shrieked, "It stings, it stings!" and withdrew itself. The blow struck deep, but not deep enough.

"Sting." Bilbo absently looked to his sword before the resumption of his assault, "I like that!" and wailed at his enemy, hacking and stabbing at the pitiful wretch until it stumbled and fell, at least blissful that its pain was over and past. Exultant in his victory, Bilbo retrieved the ring and held it to his eyes, "Mine!"

"Mine!" he repeated, and sank to the ground as finally blinked the trance away and emptily stared in a daze at the little trinket he had brought out of the misty mountains. And was stunned. Utterly. Why did he just snap like that? It was useful, sure enough. Very much so. But why did it crave more attention for those instants than his very own life?

It seemed so harmless in his fingers, yet it seemed to beckon and assure him, nay, demanded, his attention. "Most magical items can be of great help," the ghostly voice and image of H'anigi echoed in his memories with that same dazzling smile of hers, only tinted with worry, "but not all of them are what they seem. A few may carry a curse about them, all that is not to your best."

Now those words struck home. That strange wildness that overcame him could have been deadly had a single wrong move been made, and that motionless state before that could just as easily been certain cause for his death. For an instant it made him fearful enough to just throw away and leave it behind, until a part of him realized he had already put it back in the pocket. A realization that terrified him before calmer parts prevailed.

The ring scared him. Maybe, just maybe, the miqo'te might know how to deal with it when the time comes. After that lie before the forest he was not sure if he would bring it to Gandalf's attention just yet. With that reassurance in mind, the hobbit remembered how to move his own limbs and started on his way back. A walk that turned into an uneasy dash as something occurred to him. The direction that commotion went in was the way he came.

 _OoOoO_

When the spiders suddenly stampeded through the area, Kili found himself separated from the rest by sheer fluke, and within there someplace he found himself face to face with a spider that subsequently rolled over like a look could indeed kill. What killed it truly he did not have time to wonder until the answer provided itself through the elongated elven blade soon to be held close to his throat, a beautiful blonde elf woman at the other end of it. Kili held his hands up, "I suppose... a 'thank you' would not tide you over..."

"You may be correct." she replied smoothly, "Weapons. Drop them."

Kili conceded as he searched for what weapons remained on him, whatever was not lost when the spiders took him. He did not even halfway finish the motion before a shapely figure he found immediately recognizable joined the conversation in the most direct manner at once possible. H'anigi had come out from the foliage and without the tiniest warning launched herself at the elf with a wide swing that would have parted the elf from her head if she had not reacted fast enough to the revelation that they were hardly alone here and ducked, then twisted at a near-impossible angle to strike back with her pair of finely crafted swords that left no sound as they cleaved the air.

The miqo'te had understood the danger and took quickly enough a step back to avoid the retaliation completely before she resumed the attack, both hands clutched hard to her axe, thrust its blade directly at her elven foe. By itself it was a move easily parried, but the cat-like woman was prepared for it and as the attack was stopped shifted the grip on her weapon and seamlessly whipped around in a full circle and heavily swung, a motion that forced the elf to parry again, and this time was forced back from the power lent in this blow.

H'anigi apparently understood this to be an enemy she could not hold back against and kept up her barrage as she once against changed the grip and span again, this time in a different angle that brought the axe high then down with a force that would have seen the elf's head smashed in if she did not continue to skillfully block, if in a more labored a manner. While no injury was inflicted so far, another second the blonde was kept in defense was another second she could not attack.

Several consecutive hits followed the seemingly slow sunder as H'anigi brought to bear another heavy swing that forced her elven adversary to stay on the defensive, and followed it up with a pair of even swifter ones that seemed to be a warmup for what was to come as the miqo'te unleashed a torrent of swings and thrusts that simply and continuously gained in speed and execution. To Kili who was largely the spectator to this watched as the miqo'te pressured the elf with an endless onslaught, with a transition between each attack that transferred smoothly into another. She demonstrated this simple move-set with a sort of skill that could have only been brought about from training in each component motion thousands of times.

One would think that made her attacks predictable, but there was no opening at all, every grain of her assault focused on keeping the opponent on the defensive and grind her down through attrition.

It continued in an unending but organized frenzy until the elf finally faltered by a fraction. H'anigi exploited this immediately by abusing the muscle memory that had just built up to raise the axe over her head and swung it about in the heaviest swing yet. It startled the elf who tried to withdraw. The miqo'te did not let her and set in her attack at a blazing speed along the horizontal plane, a strike that finally sent a sword away.

The elf was stunned, half of it Kili only now realized came from simply staring at her assailant. Elves are all the kind of people that dedicate the fullest scope of their attention to a task at hand, so when their attention is divided the skill become greatly diminished. This is her first time seeing a miqo'te, and the disbelief ravaged her. No wonder her part of the fight was lackluster.

H'anigi seemed to have long since known of this and exploited the novelty ruthlessly. And now finally, with one weapon sent aside and the other wide away, the miqo'te rushed and tackled the elf to the ground where a knee was planted on the arm that held the remaining sword with crushing force while the other landed on her chest. H'anigi next leaned forward and planted her axe just an inch off the opposite side of her opponent's neck, positioned so that if the elf tried anything, H'anigi would lean on the axe and send her head off.

Something which the elf recognized halfway through as she tried to reach into her cloak for something and thereby stayed her hand. Defiance was of no further use here. The point on the feline's part was not to kill her.

"Kili." H'anigi hissed through clenched teeth, her breathing rough and intense.

Finally he started into action, "Yes?"

"Disarm her, then if you got any rope. Anything to tie her up with, ready it!"

"What _are_ you...?" the elf gasped – cautious not to budge an inch, "What are you doing?"

"If I had a gil every time..." H'anigi groaned softly in exasperation.

Kili put up a wry grin at that as he ventured to their side and pried away the sword that remained before he gently rifled through the elf's pockets and removed to toss aside every weapon she possessed. Otherwise he said nothing and spared only a moment to briefly admire the beautiful women locked in such close proximity with one another – even if it was far from a friendly one – before he searched for anything in his possession that might be used for restraint. "Mind telling me why we're taking her?"

"Ugh, Twelve preserve me." she cursed briefly and with a quieting breath followed it up, "That should be obvious. Her kin have captured our comrades, all of them except Bilbo, and we are going to barter this one for their release!"

* * *

 **Author note:** About the attacks H'anigi used against Tauriel, those are attacks from the game. Overpower, Heavy Swing, Sunder Skull, Maim, and Storm's Path.

Oh, and I found use for the songs Bilbo made up in the book.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Of Bargains And Ill Portents**

* * *

Immortal and wise beyond knowing, set in their ways and confident in their boundless knowledge, Elves are ironically the most likely to be bewildered in the face of the truly unexpected. Many among them thought the world held nothing any longer that could surprise them, for they witnessed events that put to shame anything that is today. In the past they lived amongst myths and legends that are little more than fairy tales to the mortal races today. What was the likelihood of an elf discovering what no other has seen?

Right in the middle of what was supposed to be just another routine culling of the spiders that have in their usual spiteful manner come to infest Mirkwood that though it expanded to something unusual in the form of a group of dwarves so very distant from from their mountain strongholds Tauriel received perhaps the greatest shock and revelation of her life as she was surprised, ruthlessly outfought before it passed, and pinned down by a busty young woman who stood apart from just about all the people she has ever seen in her six hundred years of life with her strong feline features. She stared at the oddly colored slitted eyes that in return kept strong watch on her, attention drawn away only when the visage of a brown-furred tail flicked irritatedly into view.

"B-barter me...?!" Tauriel asked, very still as the cat woman held her down, the axe too close to her neck for comfort, while the dwarf who apparently went by the name of Kili searched her for weapons and discarded each one found.

"For our comrades, yeah." the cat woman said simply.

"Why...?" she argued lamely as the Captain of the Guard side of her asserted itself, "So you can continue your intrusion into our lands?"

"Your lands?" her unusual captor spared a quick glance around at the trees so dark, gnarled and richly decorated with vile cobwebs, then even more lamely replied, "Nice place."

Tauriel raised an elongated brow, "Did you jest?"

"It's fine, it's fine. Don't worry." a hand was dismissively waved between them, "I won't judge."

She gaped to retort, but the cat woman cut her off with a shrug.

"Standards of beauty aside, only reason we're here is because we lost track of that damned trail on our way through these blasted woods. Foul magic took us astray."

"She's clean." Kili announced as he finished the search and ran to the nearest tree, and hesitated before he started on to cut free some lengths of the strongest cobwebs within reach. Tauriel felt a cold shiver run up her spine at the implication she would be tied up with those foul things, the disgust echoed by her captor:

"Really Kili, you didn't have a rope?"

"Ain't the one whose got that, H'anigi." the dwarf muttered apologetically as he hurriedly weaved the strands together, "Disgusting as it is, it will have to do. Pardon for the inconvenience all too soon to come."

"Ugh." H'anigi winced as her slitted eyes refocused on the elf in her grasp, "No choice but to bear with it I suppose."

"And why..." Tauriel desperately tried to ignore the macabre weaving to focus instead on the cat woman who was much easier on the eye for the moment, "if I may be so bold, did you take the cursed path?"

"We're heading to the lonely mountain." the cat woman explained curtly, "Need to be there on some date called Durin's day."

She stared, "Why would you go there?"

"I'm a little in the dark far as the details go beside I need to go there to have a chance of gong back home. Kili, could you fill in the gap?"

"Well," Kili hesitated, but perhaps being a little smitten with either woman loosened his tongue, "Our leader is Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, King under the Mountain. The goal of our journey is to retake Erebor, our home, from Smaug. To do that we need to get in and secure the Arkenstone. With it, Thorin will be able to command the loyalty of all dwarves and cast down the dragon."

"..." Tauriel was struck silent by that nugget of knowledge, an epiphany had occurred to her. "Could this be some twist of fate?"

"What do you mean?" H'anigi frowned.

"For such a journey to suddenly take place in these troubled times..." she whispered as the thoughts raced within her, "Sightings of Orcs have become more commonplace as of late. And likewise, the spiders are constantly invading from their dark burrows in Dol Guldur."

Kili grimaced, "Away from the misty mountains we were pursued by a band of orcs led by the vile Azog the Defiler. A cruel orc of Gundaband sworn to end the line of Durin..."

"That... this... It cannot be coincidence." Tauriel swore in Sindarin, "Your company is at the core of something vast."

H'anigi had all the way more or less listened to the names listed with a sizable lack of recognition. It renewed the elf's curiosity about this new being and how she, a being completely out of her experience, fit into the grand scale of these events. "Nevertheless," the cat woman said pointedly, "we got to move on."

"And I agree." she nodded, "There is no longer a need to restrain me. If these events are connected, your quest will bring a resolution to them. So it must continue... I believe... for all our sakes."

"... While I don't particularly object to some help, why?"

Tauriel locked eyes with her, "Surely the dark forces seek an end to Thorin's quest, and though a shame it is for me to admit such fault my King is like to recognize Thorin Oakenshield and liable to lock him and the rest of your dwarven companions away for a hundred years if need be, if they are not forthcoming with their purpose."

Kili winced, "Thorin is not like to be forthcoming at all to the King of Mirkwood, for he abandoned his friendship to Erebor when its peril was at its greatest."

"So we must free them while they are still out of his grasp. Allow me to aid you until such a time we must part."

"Releasing you was the plan." H'anigi nodded and eased herself off the elf who began to rub the feeling back to where the cat woman had practically sat herself atop. "Soon as the company's free and we're out of the woods eastern side."

Tauriel smiled thinly at the cat-like female as she stood, "Until then, my arms are yours."

"Whew, nice and good." Kili nodded, grinning at the mess of cobwebs his hands had turned very sticky with. "Now what do I do with this, hm?"

"I'm not touching that." H'anigi resolutely stated.

Tauriel seconded, "Neither will I."

"H'anigi, Kili!" a voice erupted together with a body even smaller than the dwarf's from a nearby patch of bushes, a man that Tauriel recognized obscurely as a hobbit. This arrival looked at her with raised brows and continued: "Now... what did I miss?"

"Aside from me having spider web all over my hands?" Kili shrugged.

"Yeah." the hobbit winced, "Aside from that."

"Most unusual a company. Dwarves in the company of a hobbit, and an unknown of a race my kind knows nothing of."

The cat woman raised a brow at her, "H'anigi Tohl is the name of that unknown, and she is a Miqo'te, thank you."

"Tauriel, of the Silvan Elves." she concisely introduced herself.

"Not an Elezen huh..." H'anigi mused thoughtfully, "guess I should have expected it."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind." she shrugged, her tail flicking in amusement.

The hobbit nodded slowly, "Introductions are nice, but my understanding right now is a bit lacking. What's going on?"

H'anigi grimaced, "Except Kili here, the rest have been captured..."

"Again?" a sigh of exasperation left him.

"Again." she parroted, "Fortunately, Tauriel here has decided to lend us a hand and way outta this here pickle."

"And we must make haste. The Prince is like to dispatch a search for me if I stay away for much longer."

"So how do we do this?" Kili asked, eyes primarily on the females.

H'anigi smirked and folded arms across her chest, "Oh, I just happen to know a thing or two about hostage situations. You and Tauriel will come with me. Bilbo, you stay close but in hiding to watch our backs."

"I pray this does not keep repeating." Bilbo complied as he melted back into the foliage and vanished from view, "I'll be terribly cross if it does."

Tauriel could not read minds, but could tell by expression alone as they accordingly hurried forth to set their desperate little plan in motion that H'anigi agreed with the hobbit with every fiber of her being.

 _OoOoO_

Legolas was confused as to the length of time that has gone by yet see not a sign of Tauriel who has always been the timely sort, and much too skilled with blades to fall before any mere spawn of Ungoliant. Once her absence had gone for too long he began with worry to assemble a small group of his warriors with the craft and skill to undertake the task. This done with regret as he could not send any more nor follow suit to find the woman he has grown very fond of, for that there are altogether too many dwarves in their custody.

Once all the spiders had been purged from the area on they went to encircle and capture the group that surrendered with much sullen resignation, more annoyed than afraid of the swords and arrows arrayed at them. One of the more brown-bearded even had the gall to speak back at him when he browsed through a locket that held ugly images of what are supposedly his wife and son.

He was bout to dispatch the five of whom all are more than willing to search for their missing Captain when a voice abruptly called out to them all, a female voice that the dwarves all grouped together in their midst immediately recognized: "Elves of Mirkwood, hear me!"

A moment of confusion passed as Legolas looked in somewhat the direction from which the voice came, and called out in due turn, "Who speaks as though you hold sovereignty in these woods!?"

"One and a few who hold your precious Captain of the Guard captive! If you desire her released without undue harm you will comply with our terms!"

 _Tauriel? Captive?_ Legolas could not believe the name and word would ever share a spoken sentence, "And what promise do I have that the Captain of Mirkwood is yet still alive?"

A curt silence followed before a cry pierced the air, a voice he recognized all too well. "Legola-" Tauriel called to him, and was just as soon muffled.

"As of yet she is unharmed. Not for much longer if you offer no compliance!"

Legolas bit his lower lip for a split second, a look given across the clearing in which his elves stood at the ready but wary, attentive to every word spoken even if they provided no hint of it. After a quick thought he called out once again, "What are your terms?"

"Release the dwarves." the female voice which much to his confusion had a strange accent to it he had never heard before, "After that you will allow us to leave the forest for none of us has any desire to stay for any longer! Once we are clear of the forest, we will release the Captain of the Guard back to you alive and well!"

Momentarily he ground his teeth in frustration as he considered the reality of his scarce options. Surely the King, his father, would not be pleased with this. Not in the least. While the laws of Mirkwood are crystal in their clarity, surely the preservation of precious elven lives should take precedence. It was this line of thought that finally made him elect the choice of how to proceed. Refuse and he would lose Tauriel. Accept and he would receive his father's ire. Either way he lost, so best he choose the path of smallest loss.

"Release the dwarves." Legolas finally called so the one he negotiated with would also hear of his decision.

"Very wise." the strange female purred in approval, "Provide no pursuit of us, and make no attempt at rescue! Do so and you endanger her life. Understood?"

Legolas made his succinct reply, "Understood!" each syllable spoken in abject pain. He might well die of shame long before any further battle with the forces of dark will, "And woe betide you if the promise is not kept!"

"You will have her back love." the voice replied in a puckish tone, "Miner's honor."

 _Was that supposed to reassure me?_ Legolas though in incredulity as every arrow and every blade were withdrawn and all of the twelve dwarves got up and crowded away from them – toward the voice, all very eager to get away. A few looked longingly at the weapons still in elven custody but the one who negotiated with them made no mention of handing the weapons back. At the very least he could cushion the blow of today's embarrassment with the retrieval of Orcrist, an ancient sword of Gondolin.

One just had to look at the silver lining in all things.

 _OoOoO_

Thorin could not believe their luck as he led his company away from the hated elves. Miserably taken captive he had little in the elves' care to look forward to than decades of imprisonment in their dungeon, from which escape would be all but impossible. Averted because the blessed female he had misjudged as a liability when her participation in their journey began just because she's a woman once again proved his initial assessment completely wrong to such length it beggars belief. How bad a judge of character was he to suspect someone of little a use a second time after he was so thoroughly proven otherwise by the honorable Bilbo Baggins?

Firmly at the spear-point he had his company continue to plunge onward in spite of their lessened health. All of them were tired atop of the misery they endured in the spiders' clutches by how they were beaten and dragged across root-covered ground, branches and trunks more times than he cared to count. Their march toward the source of H'anigi's voice only slowed as a familiar figure appeared from the treeline to the side. Bilbo Baggins appraised them with a look of grim appreciation that they are at the very least in one piece, somewhat, "Thorin!"

"Bilbo!" he acknowledged, "Where is H'anigi and Kili?"

The hobbit edged in closer and spoke in more subdued a voice, "They've gone up ahead. H'anigi wanted me to tell you to keep going this way until you catch up."

He could not help but feel there was an 'and' there somewhere, "What about you?"

"Going to sweep the area behind you, make sure to distract pursuit if there are any." Bilbo explained and sighed. "If you wonder why, H'anigi said it's to make sure we don't suffer a surprise attack while we regroup to rest."

Thorin saw sense in that plan and agreed, "I concur. We are in a poor shape."

"Do try not to find yourself another set of troubles along the way." he clucked in mild admonishment, "I am certain we are about to hit the annual quota far as our collective fortune goes."

Curtly he chuckled and winced at the pain it caused to his bruised chest, "We'll be sure to keep our wits well at hand this time. Is that not the truth men?"

All in earshot raised their fists and hollered their affirmatives. "By my beard I swear it." Balin coughed in borderline fury.

"Just right." Thorin huffed a nod, "Go Bilbo, don't let us keep you."

"Of course. Don't stray now." the hobbit warned for last before he veered away and was gone before any one knew it.

Gandalf made a fine choice indeed.

 _OoOoO_

Utility has value, even if the particular something scared him witless. Bilbo dropped back from the main pack to spot for any elves not about to adhere to what has been agreed on – even if it was indeed rather forced. Ironically for all his fear of the item that sat snugly on his finger the black and white of this shadow world it submerged him into made it easy to spot anything that isn't gnarled tree, cobweb, or ground.

And for now he saw no sign of any elves. While he was very fond of the wood folk these seemed far less amiable than those of Rivendell – so though he disliked the possible need to harm them if it came to that... he had to protect his friends.

That thought, both of those things were less worrisome than the storm that might brew ahead once Thorin finds the elf 'captive' under far less duress than advertised. At the very least he would not suffer the brunt of it alone.

 _OoOoO_

"What shall we do now?"

Legolas did not answer the warrior at once and quietly marveled at how much a racket the dwarves could make. They were to be fair not at their best, but still to hear them even now after such a gap between their groups was built could be considered a minor miracle in its very own way. It was the final measure of amusement gained before he considered the grim next course of action and appraised his assembled warriors, "Select our swiftest runner and have him return to my father the King and tell of what has transpired."

The subordinate creased his brow in a fair display of resignation, "A harsh task. King Thranduil will not be pleased."

"Yet it must be done. Once away, all else will proceed to the east and see the bargain kept."

 _OoOoO_

After a distance of a little past a thousand paces the company finally regrouped in full. H'anigi watched in quiet expectation as the dwarves formerly held by elves slumped collectively on the collection of roots that stretched across the meager clearing chosen randomly for the rendezvous. It was not chosen randomly per say as with a ground slightly lower than the surrounding terrain and a scattering of trees with a lot of roots exposed above ground it was probably the most defensible location seen so far in this run.

For the first few instants the dwarves more or less looked past Tauriel where she sat and tried to look tall and proud yet more or less harmless. Some like Bombur simply crumpled into a heap and only kept themselves from sleep with an edge of cautious wariness to their haggard expressions. Surprising to the miqo'te however was Thorin's first stop, Kili. He with Fili approached the black-bearded man who had gotten separated from the rest and exchanged handshakes and quick hugs, the sense of relief palpable.

"Thorin's nephews, they both are." Glóin supplied as he approached and noticed the slight confusion in her.

"Really?" H'anigi was surprised, "I didn't realize the difference of age was that much."

The dwarf chuckled, "Common mistakes other races make. Kili's the younger brother at seventy-seven just so you know." and still the more as at her momentarily blank expression.

"And... how old can dwarves become?"

He nodded mirthfully, "A fair few centuries." then continued for the seemingly sheer hell of it, "Far longer than men and hobbits beside. Bilbo's a ripe fifty, fairly young in his people's regard."

H'anigi briefly tried to wrap her head around that and concluded it was not worth the effort, "And I am a scarce twenty-eight."

"Years worth their weight in gold I'd say, lass." Glóin reached up and patted her on the shoulder, "Much appreciate the opportunity not to enter the dungeons of the Elven King. Was resigned to never see my wife and lad again."

"You have a family waiting for you?"

"Aye, but I hope that next we'll see, Erebor's back in our hands."

"Something to look forward to." H'anigi squirmed a bit on the root she had sat herself on, "But nothing's like the present. And lest I miss my guess it is time to face the music."

Thorin had finally finished his curt conversation with Kili before he mustered onward toward her and Tauriel – a significant look given in the elf's general direction before it turned to the miqo'te as she stood, "So this is the elf my nephew said you defeated. Why is she not bound?"

"We had no rope." H'anigi stated simply and gestured to Kili's cobweb-stained hands, "Kili tried to fashion bindings from spider web, and look how that turned out. Beside... I don't believe it necessary."

"And... why is that?" Thorin glanced at the silently regarding Tauriel in a distrustful manner, "Like this she could escape at any time."

She spoke quickly before the elf could, "After we told of our intentions, she decided to help us free you."

"You told...?!" he looked from her to Kili whose attention was suddenly focused on a particular shrub on the ground like it was the most fascinating thing in the world right now. No one could blame him. "You revealed of our goal?" he borderline shouted.

"Thorin!" H'anigi snapped like only a woman could, a chilly tone in her voice that slapped him with the same force of an armored gauntlet. "Tauriel _wants_ your quest to succeed."

Thorin's expression settled into a gobsmacked look as though he did not really catch that, "... What?" and stared at Tauriel with a measure of confusion.

She turned to the elf, "Go on." and encouraged her, "Spill the beans."

For a moment Tauriel only raised a brow at the phrasing before her attention was directed at the dwarf leader, "The forces of evil are growing in this region, and they are growing stronger with each passing day. And at present who stands against them?" she shrugged and rose slowly to not imply an intention for aggression, "The dwarves are divided, and my King... prefers that we hide behind our walls and reject all that happen outside as just someone else's war. Thorin Oakenshield, your journey is one they see as a threat. With the Arkenstone your scattered people will rally to your banner, a new power they can ill afford to let stand."

She fixed on him a meaningful look, "If you succeed, they will cease preparation and rally in force. That is the only hope there is to destroy them ere they grow too strong to resist."

Thorin listened, and still he fumed, "So while we do the dirty work you sit nice and snug in your forest home?"

"No." Tauriel readily claimed, disgusted by the idea, "My hope is when my King hears of you, he will – when the time comes – martial his troops. For there is a treasure within the halls of Erebor he greatly desire."

"Pretty shrewd of you." H'anigi commented with a little grin at such audacity. _A lot of assumptions too..._

Tauriel let out a sigh that spoke volumes, "Our Kingdom is as much a part of this world as every other."

The miqo'te briefly chortled, "Fine words."

"It is the truth."

"As if our journey was not hard enough." Glóin remarked.

Dwalin growled back, "Gandalf did tell our task was a necessary one."

"Before darker minds turn to Erebor..." Thorin muttered thoughtfully.

"Indeed." Taurien obviously recognized the name, though the name she followed it up with wasn't to the miqo'te. "If Mithrandir said so, that only strengthens my belief that your quest will bring an end to these dark times."

While that made many thoughtful, the most severe case was perhaps Thorin who seemed to have a inner struggle of pride and will as he did not as much pace in front of them as he rolled like a storm that drifted back and forth in wait for the littlest chance to explode. H'anigi reclined slightly and decided she would have none of that stubbornness. It was obvious that though he very much already knew of this journey's importance he also very much hated elves more than was reasonable. "Thorin," she groaned, "you do not have to like her, and I am not going to force you into rescinding your dislike of her kin after what fate they left you to. But as long as Tauriel is with us... we won't come down with a sudden case of pincushion. And hate it or not, she is our quickest way out of this forest and will leave once we're out."

As a matter of course, the lead dwarf glowered at her severely for the audacity to trust the elf so willingly. A look she returned two-fold. While Thorin was impressive the lack of bulk compared to the angrily drunk – beside being big mountains of muscle – roegadyn she occasionally had to stare down at the bars of Limsa Lominsa in the past his impression was somewhat lacking.

"Or would you prefer to have her tied and gagged, then wander about aimlessly without her for a guide until something else decide to try and either capture or eat us?"

Numerous dwarves, including the hobbit who had until now been content to sit, watch, and rest his legs, winced. Apparently something like that did happen at some point in their journey before she came along. Eager to not get into yet another crisis yet with an apologetic air to them, Dwalin and Balin closed in on Thorin and exchanged terse whispers with one another. Engaged by those among the company he trusted the most, Thorin soon and finally relented with an angry snap, "Then so be it. Have her guide us but bind her and never let the elf be without at least two eyes on her. Understood?"

There was no refusal, only compliance from the others. H'anigi decided this was as much that could be hoped for, and while the request for a solid rope was put forward and lent by Bifur – who was grimace-worthy with that axe stuck in his scalp – she regarded the elf with a smidgen of sympathy, "Looks like there will be a slight drop of dignity on the road ahead."

"I will bear it." Tauriel decided with a sort of resignation that told volumes of the expectation for restraints to be put to use on her.

Further conversation was broken as Óin stood out from the rest and ruffled for his pockets and plucked out what looked like ointments. "Now that you are done bellyaching – all who are hurt form a line, which is damn near all of ye. Not gonna let anyone sleep until we're done with a quick checkup!"

 _Guess that leaves me out_. H'anigi idly observed as she went through very little abuse aside from that fall she performed with a spider for a cushion. It damned well winded her, but failed to really injure her. Dwalin was likewise excused for having gone through even less.

Not hurt but tired, H'anigi sat herself back down and wondered where to take her forty winks when her gaze absently drew toward Bilbo whose sad eyes focused on her. The miqo'te blinked once at this before the man who she could not imagine to share the same age as her father stood and with a tilt of his head implored for her to come with him. Perplexed, she stood up, gave Tauriel one last glance for now as Dwalin tied her wrists together, and moved to follow the hobbit.

 _OoOoO_

Bilbo stopped just away from the rest and sat down on a rock that faced away from where they came before he reminded himself about the salient points he's about to bring up while he waited for H'anigi to join up with him. All the time he rested a hand on the pocket where his ring rested yet ceaselessly tempted.

"Is there something wrong, Bilbo?" he heard the miqo'te ask, the voice of hers full of concern.

With a frown he nodded, "Yes... please sit." and watched as she strolled in front of him and lowered herself to sit cross-legged without protest. All the while he tried to overlook her luscious curves and forget about the earlier embrace. "It's... about the ring."

H'anigi rubbed a hand against her shoulder tiredly, though her eyes sharpened a tad, "Yes?"

"It happened when I collided against a spider and fell with it. Lost the ring, but instead of worrying about the spider that could see me, I instead looked feverishly for the ring. Like I was possessed."

"Possessed... How bad was it?" she looked to the pocket of his.

"Er... the spider almost stepped on it. I could hear every step like it thundered, and lost my mind completely to murderous rage just to get it back." Bilbo quaked as he thought back on how little control he had. "Everything just seemed to go... black. Almost died because the ring made me need it more than my own life."

H'anigi leaned in and experimentally asked, "Did you try to throw it away when you realized?"

"Yes... I did, but I couldn't. It was back in the pocket before I knew it..."

"So the symptoms have worsened." she observed quietly, "I got a little theory of what it does now... The ring provide you with invisibility when you put it on. Unfortunately it makes you extremely possessive of it over time and use... and lacking of will to part with it."

"Noticed those things." he nodded grimly.

"And then, it makes you distrust those around you – perhaps to the point it makes you seek seclusion."

Bilbo grit his teeth as a vague image built up in his mind, "How bad do you think it'll get."

"You're not going to like it." she gently warned.

"Hit me..."

"... One word:" H'anigi paused and briefly probed his expression on whether he would change his mind or not, but seeing naught but a sincere if terrified desire to know the answer no matter how bad it might seem, she relented; "Gollum."

"Gollum?" Bilbo parroted and thought back on that pitiful creature. For several pregnant moments he was stuck in a sort of limbo within his own mind as implications poured in and comprehension dawned in a show of force that made his heart beat as though to burst from his chest. A state of blind panic overwhelmed him as he tried to rip the ring from his pocket and throw it away, only to grow worse, more frenzied, as his hands failed to reach in like he had forgotten where it was.

He wanted to be rid of it. He wanted to be rid of it. He wanted to be rid of it with such desire that he for what felt like hours was unable to feel or hear H'anigi as she closed in and grabbed him by the shoulder and arm that clawed away for the ring and repeatedly called him in a hushed tone for him to calm down.

"Bilbo, don't panic! Don't panic!" the miqo'te came within inches of him as she fought with a show of effort to restrain him until it became all too apparent that mere words would not stop him. Instead what finally brought him back to reality was a solid strike of her backhand across his face that made him fall off the rock with a surprised yelp. "Bilbo, I'm sorry, but I need you to calm down. Calm. Down."

Seconds passed as Bilbo did as told, helpfully distracted from his fears by the fiery pain on his cheek where her leather-clad hand met it. "I... I must get rid of it. I do not want... to end up like that."

"And I promise you, I will not let it come to that!" H'anigi told him solemnly, "But throw it away and that obsessive drive to retrieve it will just come back."

"Then what do we do?"

"We destroy it... Either in Erebor or what other place we find on the way!"

"Erebor..." he nervously considered, "it could take weeks to get in there."

"You should be okay if you use that damned thing as little as possible from now on. For all we know it probably took Gollum years to reach that stage."

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi hated the need to tell a lie to reassure the obviously frightened hobbit but truth be told she had no idea at all of what kind of time-limit they have on this. In retrospect it made her regret the decision not to make an attempt at the Arcanist Guild, for with their knowledge she could have done so much more. Alas it was no use to wish for what she never bothered with. All she could do at this time was to help him relax, and hope there are smithies to put to use on the road ahead.

 _By Byregot, please let there be a right and proper forge somewhere!_

With a little effort, Bilbo managed to stack himself back on the stone, steady enough that the miqo'te could finally back off and return to where she sat, "O-okay, I... I think I can do that." he stuttered finally.

She nodded grimly, "We will work this out before long. Now let's go and get some sleep. Twelve knows we are going to need the rest."

"All right." he breathed but did not move, "H'anigi?"

"Yes?"

"Have you... have you experienced things like this before, about cursed items?"

"Just once." H'anigi stated as the hurtful memory came to mind. A hurt that clearly showed, so she told him a story before she was prompted to. "I was seventeen back then. Young, naive, out for adventure. Limsa Lominsa seemed the perfect place after that bad stint in Gridania – long story that one. I settled, entered a ship crew and became a marauder."

Carefully she made sure to omit that she was a pirate back then. It was far more regimented than advertised with strict requirements on physical fitness and skill... but compared to all the abuse heaped up on her during the stay in Gridania because of their severe discrimination toward foreigners – especially when the elementals demanded it – the life of a pirate was practically idyllic even if it involved a great deal of combat. Something that she was quick to adapt to thanks to the training regimen that the Captain's first mate demanded. H'anigi could remember those stringent exercises with such clarity that it feels as though one of those took place just yesterday. Of the long hours that she and her fellow marauders did nothing but perform the basic moves on how to move and use the axe in endless repetition under the baking sun until all the built-up sweat practically pooled around their feet.

It really helped the crew survive. Too bad there were cases in which no amount of training or awareness helped.

"There was another girl there, a midlander named Amelia." H'anigi focused on the ground for a spell. To put it bluntly there were very few among the crew who weren't midlander or roegadyn. "She was my best friend, and a fellow holder of the axe. Only... she never quite got the hang of it. No matter the training she never seemed to get strong enough. Was a tad of a sore point for her."

"So what happened to her?" Bilbo asked as he hung onto every word. Already he could guess something happened to Amelia.

She sighed, "One day she just happened to buy something from a merchant at the marked. A magically infused bracelet that enhanced her strength. We only thought of it as a lucky draw as she seemed so happy to finally be able to keep up with everyone else. Only problem about it was, the moment Amelia put it on, the thing was impossible to remove without harming her."

"I guess she kept it on."

"Aye, she did." H'anigi raised her gaze to stare into the far dark distance, "Should have imagined it odd. Alas we let her do as she pleased, even as the aether stored in it began to deplete as Amelia put the thing to use. Said she believed the bracelet would probably let go of her once empty so it could be infused again."

"While it happened, we continued to work and live life to the fullest. Until that fateful night when that bracelet finally depleted as we slept in our hammocks." she continued, and involuntarily shuddered as the details of what followed played in her mind. "It detached from Amelia... but not before it suddenly sucked the aether out of her body to recharge itself until she was nothing but a dried up corpse."

Bilbo paled as he visibly tried to picture it and obviously did not like what came to mind.

"We acted, fully resolved to sever her arm to remove the abomination. But we were too late, too late, and during that time she suffered an excruciating death and let out sounds I never imagined the throat of a hyur could make..." H'anigi trembled at the memory and her tail bristled with terror at the mere thought of it, "As a last straw, as if to rub salt into the wound the bracelet once she was dead detached itself – fully recharged and ready for someone else to use it. In grief I put my axe through the damned thing for taking my best friend's life. Next I remembered... I woke up in the ship's infirmary. Was told the thing exploded as I destroyed it and sent me flying."

"There was not even a body to bury. The explosion turned Amelia's dried husk into dust. All I could do was lie down and mourn a lost friend."

"... I'm sorry." he whispered in heartfelt consolation.

"I'm the one who should apologize." the miqo'te sniffed and insisted as she focused upon him, "Should have made you throw that ring away once we were out of that mountain. Seeing as it could be taken off and did seemingly nothing but make one invisible I did not lend as much suspicion to it as I should have..."

Bilbo shook his head strongly at her, "You have no reason to apologize. I should have put more thought on why such a pretty ring was right there of all places - truly it was much too good to be at all true." A brave front shown as he stood and brushed dirt and pebbles from his trousers, "And... no number of apologies will make the ring any less there."

"Spoken with much sense." H'anigi appraised with a sad half-smile and stretched her limbs, "I need some stiff drink."

"Yes, but some stiff sleep will have to be enough." the hobbit tiredly replied as he turned to rejoin the others, "Thanks for the talk."

She nodded curtly, "You're welcome..." and did not move till he was away. Thoughtful for a spell until she got up and wandered back into the crowded clearing and laid herself between a pair of roots, squirmed, curled up slightly, and slumped on the side with a bright yawn. Only moments passed before she descended into sleep and received a dream of some reminiscence where she stood in the middle of three lines worth of marauders, and like the rest brought her weapon through thin air in repetition while the first mate stood in front of them all and shouted instructions with clear rhythm. Just barely out of her line of sight was Amelia who while she was alive tried to complete what all the rest did without a word of giving up. Those were the days.

For all the workout it implied, when she was woken Kili, she got up fully with ease - every limb completely relaxed - and ready in all but the need for food as they prepared to move on.

* * *

 **Author notes:** And so they are doing their damned best not to end up in the Elven King's dungeon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: On The Watery Path**

* * *

Few animals lived within the boughs of Mirkwood, cursed as it has been for longer than most can remember. Of these creatures who like the Elves made this forest their home and kingdom, none stood more majestic than its great stags. Tall, graceful, with magnificent antlers, and covered in immaculately fine fur, so fair that even the first-born children of Eru Ilúvatar viewed them with admiration.

Today like out of an image of utter tranquility, a lone deer with a coat of brown covered in white spots hoofed into a relatively open clearing, of which there are quite a few within the vicinity of the nearby rushing river that ran through Mirkwood and was gently bathed in gentle sunlight as it idly grazed amidst the plentiful vegetation. A scene most would but stop and take a moment to appreciate.

But all it had for its only present spectator was something else entirely. The deer stopped with a start when suddenly a patch of nearby foliage parted as a feline-like figure with an axe held high in both hands darted out of it and made the straightest beeline possible for the startled ruminant.

It twisted about and tried to bolt and make itself scarce, only to find itself intercepted as H'anigi closed the gap and in a great arc swung her axe down at its neck, an effort rewarded with a splurt of blood as the beast so much akin to the antelopes of Gridania fell over its head and crashed limply on the grass-covered ground. Prey bagged, H'anigi fell to a knee and panted heavily as she winded herself down from the time spent on the lookout for the best time to pounce on it.

Time well spent.

"Mm..." H'anigi purred and moistened her lips as she put her bloodied weapon away, "I'd love to cook and tuck you in right now, but alas I got a whole company to look after. Surely you won't mind waiting a little while longer, do you?"

With no reply forthcoming, the miqo'te settled herself into a crouch and with a good grab on its legs swung the beast onto her shoulders. "Of course you don't mind." H'anigi continued as she with an effort pushed herself back up, not at all bothered by how heavy it was as it only promised that her share of its venison would be that much greater.

Quite appreciative for the thought, she trod off and back to camp in bated anticipation. Both for the meal to come and the looks she'd undoubtedly get with this good a haul in tow.

Fortunately it took little time to fulfill the latter as she arrived at the place they set up camp after a full day and night of travel that brought them with each hour closer to the specific river under Tauriel's guidance. The elf sat there, wrists bound, on the far side of the camp with Dwalin on guard not even ten feet distant. She wore a little frown that grew a little as she eyed the freshly hunted deer.

Of greater worth of attention was the group of hobbit and dwarves sans Dori that surrounded a newly made campfire, its pile of wood wisely not yet lit. Between them in a heap lay a collection of greens, herbs, and fruits – what little those of them who scattered to scrounge for food brought back, abysmal enough to make the mood a meager one. It changed however once Balin noticed her approach and looked up, "Good, you're back, did you..." followed neatly by a widening of his eyes, "Ah!"

"Really," H'anigi could not help but grin, her tail thrashing in equal parts amusement and exasperation, as she eased the deer off her shoulders and put it to the ground just next to the pile with a dull thud on impact that made those inattentive to jump and stare at the catch she brought. "is that all you could find?"

The piercing question given summoned grunts and grimaces from those of the dwarves who had gone to find food. "I remember quite clearly," Thorin grumbled as he looked over the deer, his words meant for Nori, "that you told there was nothing out there."

"And I did see nothing," Nori complained defensively, "clearly a part of the forest away from me was more willing to accommodate."

Bombur shrugged, "Enough to make stew out of in any case. Just need to wait for Dori to bring the water."

"And hope he doesn't put something in it." Dwalin shuddered, a motion almost everyone other than Bilbo echoed at the thought of.

Apparently Dori's a horrid chef. H'anigi wondered privately how one can screw up water, but then reminded herself of a memorable highlander pressed into service as a chef since the genuine article had come down with illness. The git accomplished the minor miracle of making what was supposed to be flavor-rich gruel so tasteless it merely existed in the mouth till swallowed, yet even that paled to that sweet he tried to make – followed the receipt, used the correct ingredients, yet he still somehow turned it so bitter even the chocobos hated it.

His new job lasted for no longer than one meal, and no one looked pretty for a while after. The Captain had by far the worse of it though as he made the mistake to take a big mouthful of the sweet – even two weeks after the distinct shade of green his skin took for its own had yet to excuse itself as the sore company it was. Surely Dori could not possibly be all that bad, but the look of unmitigated horror and unease from his comrades claimed otherwise.

On that note, the miqo'te decided not to ask. For her own sanity's sake.

"Regardless," Bombur interrupted their sour thoughts as he looked onto the deer speculatively, "we best make ready for when our tardy comrade decide to rejoin us. Bofur, do lend me a hand."

Bofur briefly glared from the other side of the yet unlit campfire, "We ain't got no knives to chop it up with." he complained, "Them elves took 'em all like they did our weapons."

The chunkier dwarf shrugged, "Matters not. So long we pay heed to body structure and placement of bones, we ought to be able to split it by hand. Now come along."

"... Aye."

Seeing as her catch's in the hands of a competent cook, H'anigi decided to excuse herself without a word and dropped down by one of the trees that lined the perimeter to relax after the strenuous effort she had put herself through. A rest well earned and thankfully peaceful aside from the mild grumbles between the brothers as they carefully parted the deer, and a mild breeze that blew through the crowns of leaves above – both of which saw only disruption when Dori finally made it back, his face an ugly grimace from the effort put into the transport of the pot of water held in both of his hands and bickered curtly with Bombur over whether he decided to sneak anything into the water without the rest knowing before the campfire was lit and the pot carefully put in it.

With a small measure of the water as it heated up they cleaned up the greens and fruits before those were broken apart and drizzled into the pot, followed closely by all the venison extracted and prepared from the increasingly butchered deer so far. Enough temptation was already present that nearly all the dwarves scattered, hungry enough as is without being made further so.

"What of the herbs?" Fili wondered.

"Only good for flavor." Bombur dismissively shook his head as he stirred the soon-to-be stew, "With the whole mess we're in, best keep flavor poor."

Óin nodded in agreement, "Rich flavor and stress doesn't mesh well. Cannae afford bellyaches now."

Bilbo slumped at that piece of information. No words were put forward by him but that forlorn expression communicated his disappointment to the others far more than a hundred words would. Fili, Kili and a couple others expressed likewise, if with faces more scrunched up. H'anigi liked tasty food but offered no complaint nor comment. The logic Bombur and Óin shared was after all quite sound.

What felt like an eternity of wait followed until Bombur finally beat the pot with that wooden spoon of his. "Food's finally ready?" H'anigi asked before he put word to the action and then spent a moment to rub her eyes from the nap she almost dozed off into.

"Aye." the chunky dwarf confirmed, "Come around."

All as one, except Dwalin who remained with Tauriel, they piled in around the campfire that due to the careful preparation had produced comfortably little in the way of smoke. Bofur quickly distributed a stack of wooden bowls and spoons all around before Bombur went on to pour stew into each one.

H'anigi grinned as she received the first portion of her share and started right away to help herself to the steaming dish that despite the promised lack of flavor proved most ready to supply simple satisfaction as she chewed happily through vegetables and venison alike, each mouthful savored thoroughly prior to the swallows that followed. "Mm~" the miqo'te hummed in approval. A sentiment the other dwarves shared.

Out the corner of her eyes, Bilbo had risen and brought a pair of bowls to Dwalin and a reluctant Tauriel who looked deep into the contents with cautious skepticism before he sat down with his own. "Probably the meat." Balin absently said before he brought in a spoon full.

She blinked and stared onto the elf, "You don't like meat?"

Tauriel gave her a pointed look and shook the head while she put in her spoon with all the caution of a powder monkey to the disbelief of every onlooker. "It's true." Óin growled, "Nothing on their menus but greens. We learned that the hard way back in Rivendell."

Inwardly she cringed at the thought of a life without fish or meat on the table, but the revelation took a second seat to the observation to follow, "Let me guess... you were captured."

"More like roughly invited." Balin insisted blandly. Something that sounded rather forced.

H'anigi chuckled, "Uh-huh~"

"Speaking of elves..." Dori drawled, "I thought we'd run into more of them by now. Is not this here river over yonder some important vein?"

"It is." Tauriel confirmed as she continued to pick at the stew with every bit the concentration to split it particle by particle, "Along this river runs one of our most important trade routes, and it is through it we send spent wine barrels from Dorwinion back, through Lake-town."

"And you are certain your troops haven't fortified it." Thorin guardedly looked to the perimeter said.

"I am fairly certain. They expect the lot of you to charge straight for the border. If my lord has learned of the situation he has certainly set the outposts on high alert, to keep an eye out for us as we make our way." the elf dryly repeated what she told them earlier, "Thus this river. It's importance is to our advantage. Outsiders believe with ease that it would for its importance be strongly guarded, thus never attempt an attack for fear of the reprisal we would with immediacy bring to bear."

Thorin harumphed, "And because that logic exist, you can post troops elsewhere and let the river be guarded by its reputation alone without fear. Consequently your most commonly known trade route is also the least guarded..."

"Except beyond a certain point near our capital, yes." Tauriel supplied. No doubt after this that had to change.

"In short, good for us." H'anigi shrugged before she hoist the bowl to her lips and drank the rest of her portion straight down, "Seconds please." she requested right after. Eager to have her starved belly filled some more.

"Here you go." Bombur, who was already on his third helping himself, obliged.

"Finish up quick." Thorin looked to the sky, "Midday will soon be upon us. If the elf's information is correct, the elves will release the next batch of wine barrels soon. We must be at the lake in time to meet with the bargemen of Laketown who will come to pick up the cargo."

A flurry of agreements and acknowledgments answered him. The miqo'te replied with, "Understood." before she continued to feed herself. While at it she relished the opportunity to see an honest to twelve town after all this trouble.

 _OoOoO_

Gandalf's thoughts weighed heavily on him, a not so helpful state of mind when he needed his full concentration to climb the tremendously unsafe set of stairs that ran up the mountainside for the High Fells, an ancient tomb built for the most severely cursed men to ever live. Monsters that since succumbed and for the last thousands of years seemed content to stay put.

Grimly he hoped that remained the case and that Radagast's discovery in Dol Guldur was just an exaggeration. For if the Nazgûl walked once again, there is something far worse at work then a mere necromancer.

After all, the Nazgûl serve only one Master.

When he finally arrived at the entrance, Gandalf spent a brief moment to catch his breath before he with a curt lyrical chant had his staff's head emit a steady illuminating light and ventured into the dark place and found himself – after a most terrifying slide – at the edge of a deep shaft with thin stairs that ran along the square walls, each floor with its own little room that each is just as much tomb and prison.

An ancient prison he discovered much to his horror had been bust open.

Unsettled by this, Gandalf hurried as much as this place's stairs allowed to the first cell and found within it the stone coffin broken and empty. He checked each of the two next in due turn with same revelation in wait before he paused for consideration and turned.

To his imminent surprise, without prior warning Radagast was there, shrouded in shadow.

As can be amply understood, Gandalf felt as though his heart just jettisoned up his throat in his fright at the fellow wizard's sudden appearance. And though the colleague maintained a most solemn expression, he quietly suspected that Radagast cracked up something fierce from beyond that veneer of flabbergasted calm. "It's you..." he uttered, somewhat exasperated.

"Why am I here, Gandalf?" the eccentric wizard frowned and asked like he had taken a wrong turn somewhere.

"Trust me. I would not call for you without a good reason."

His reply was bland in its extreme, "It is not a good place to meet."

Gandalf agreed, "No, it is not."

"These are dark spells, Gandalf." Radagast scrunched up his face as he stepped out of the room and looked about, "Full of hate. Who's buried here?"

He joined him and looked down the shaft, "If he had a name, it has long since been lost. He was a servant of evil, one of a number..." he gravely stated with a long look at the rest of the cells, "One of nine!"

The brown and uncouth wizard stared at him, in short a moment bereft of voice.

"We have been blind, Radagast. The evil in Dol Guldur is no mere necromancer..." Gandalf spoke in utter solemnity, his voice an echo that traveled throughout this misbegotten place, "The Enemy has returned. Summoning the servants to his side... preparing for war."

A tense few seconds passed before he continued, "His eyes set on that mountain." and turned to climb back up, a confused Radagast quick to follow:

"Where are you going?"

"I must rejoin the others."

"Gandalf..." his colleague whispered in disbelief.

His response was grave, "I started this and set them on their quest. They are in grave danger."

"If what you said is true:" Radagast pointed out seriously, "The world is in grave danger."

That stopped Gandalf dead in his tracks, and he was reminded that for all of Radagast's eccentricity he possessed deep well of wisdom. And in this precise moment his wisdom was the firmest in its foundation. "The power in that fortress will only grow stronger."

"You are right. Time must be bought." Gandalf concluded. So long as the Enemy remains in the north, the lonely mountain will be overrun and dragon recruited by his minions long before the quest's goal can be realized.

Radagast shrugged, his eyes narrowed as they emerged to the chilly outdoors, "What do you plan to do?"

"I shall go to Dol Guldur." Gandalf announced in a near-growl born from steely resolve as he started on his climb back down, "And drive the dark lord from his keep while he is still weak from his ancient defeat."

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi felt a distant bout of familiarity as she from the top of a hill looked onto the hazy visage of a wide lake in the distance, partially hidden by a fog that had descended upon it. While a far cry from the dense fogs that oft embraced Limsa, it still provoked some delightful nostalgia. But not for long did it last before it was interrupted by a shout ahead.

"Onward!" Thorin cried out over the river's raging din, the dwarves collective attention directed at the lone barge that had already begun to pluck the barrels that managed to speed past them a while ago. It was through providence alone that only one person seemed to be tasked with the arduous task. "While we still have time!"

Not an answer left her lips as she peered for a little longer toward the faint sign of habitation, a village built in the middle of the lake. Lake-town. It certainly did deserve the name. Satisfied with her observation, the miqo'te jumped off the hill and looked to a nearby Bilbo who while he jogged along had the arms wrapped all around, not quite in agreement with the weather.

"To think I considered just riding a barrel down that stream rather than to run so far for a change." Bilbo shuddered wistfully.

H'anigi giggled, "Thank the twelve you didn't. "

"Stupid I know. Only a madman would in this cold, what if it fell over...?"

"I'd drown if that happened."

That turned his eyes wide, "Why!?" It probably did not make sense to him why someone who used to often go out at sea did not know how to swim.

"Seamen can be rather... superstitious." the miqo'te sheepishly replied, "Many believe that going out to sea with the skill to swim is to tempt fate."

"Unbelievable." Bilbo breathed his disbelief.

"I know."

"... You think there's really a forge in that town?" Bilbo asked quickly after another while of what probably pressed the most in his mind.

"I'd be awfully surprised if they didn't." H'anigi responded reassuringly, "Proximity to water never stopped Limsa from having a prominent metalworking industry."

He nodded slowly, "... You're right. I'm being a worrywart."

The female supplied a grin, "I'd be worried if you weren't. Just don't let it take too many bites out of you, friend."

Bilbo blushed mildly and very quickly switched the topic, "It's time for the next part of the plan soon... yes?"

"Very soon." she said nodded, humor in her tone at the hurriedly suppressed gesture, "Just keep up."

"Yep."

And as they neared the lake, Tauriel took more and more the lead in accordance to it. While she was still closely followed by Dwalin, the rope used to bind her wrists had been removed to facilitate their progress. It certainly helped that so far she did keep her word, enough to surely even make an impression on Thorin – even if he still grumbled over the need to be helped by an elf, the very last thing he wanted.

So it was when their procession approached the by now heavily loaded boat by a small wharf at the lake's edge, the bargeman, a tall and most handsome fellow, treated the sight before him in an accommodating a manner – even if he did eye Tauriel's company oddly. "Hail, elf of Mirkwood." he greeted evenly, "What brings you here, with a dwarven company no less?"

"Greetings, man of Esgaroth. These are travelers who took the cursed forest path and strayed into our lands." Tauriel explained with a polite smile, "I took upon myself the task to lead them out of the woods."

"Most surprising, considering King Thranduil's well-known dislike for dwarves." the bargeman commented, "Though I wager by the look of things, there are exceptions for dwarves so lightly armed."

"They were of no threat," Tauriel shrugged, "on the road to visit relatives in the Iron Hills as it were."

"And I take it they wish for passage to Lake-town?"

"Yes, yet that is a matter between them and you. My part in their journey is at an end." she shrugged, "I leave them in your capable hands. May fortune favor you and yours." and raised a hand in a gesture of farewell and turned to depart, her steps smooth and without urgency nor haste. Still from the corner of her eyes she looked onto the company who gazed back and promptly in a grateful manner waved and said their farewells in due turn. At least some of them took something of a shine to her, particularly Kili. Though the latter gave much the impression of being a skirt-chaser. H'anigi had many times felt his eyes on her. While flattering, men smaller than her did not rouse her interest.

As such... whenever lalafell tried to flirt with her, things had a tendency to turn rather awkward. They made hobbits seem tall.

It was not too hard a goodbye by all accounts. They only just met and the plan was going to end this way inevitably. H'anigi looked on as Tauriel locked eyes with hers and held her attention the longest, a sliver of regret in the elf's gaze – apparently with quite a few questions in mind to ask with not the time to finally sate her curiosity. A consequence of one priority chosen over the other.

By the time the elf was a short distance out, it was back to business as the kindly Balin took the lead in Thorin's stead to converse with this man of Lake-town. "My greetings to you and yours, bargeman." the white-bearded dwarf addressed, "I am Balin, and to answer your earlier inquiry we most certainly desire passage to your fair town."

"Bard is my name. And I can provide, for a price."

"We are more than willing to pay the fare, more than that if you provide lodgings for a night and point out where we may make purchases for our continued journey."

"Generous, aren't you." the bargeman brought a hand up to his chin and considered, then smiled, "We are in accord."

Balin at the favorable conclusion responded in kind and they firmly shook hands to seal the deal, "Pleasure doing business with you. When do we leave, still got a few barrels to fish up?"

"None." Bard stated as he embarked and marched for the steering oar while he beckoned to the company, "All aboard and we shall leave at once. Welcome to Esgaroth."

 _OoOoO_

Tauriel watched from a fair distance as the throng piled onto the barge and scattered as well as the limited amount of free space allowed for places to adequately sit and enjoy the ride from. Of them, aside from the bargeman himself only the miqo'te seemed to easily settle in as she sat in the aft portion of the vessel, seemingly entertained by how the tall man tried to focus on sending forth his barge rather than openly stare at the cat-woman he apparently failed to discover until she from where she was at the very rear of the group stepped aboard.

Satisfaction welled up inside of her. Aside from her desire to find out more about the strange being, everything went without a hitch. Now all she needed to do was make sure Thorin and his company gets a good head start.

That in mind, Tauriel resumed her journey which brought her back up the river while she idly wondered when Legolas and the wood-wardens would finally come about to close off the only hole in their otherwise carefully woven net. A question that was eventually answered as she spotted slight movement beyond the treeline on the other side of the river that was followed by a call in the Silvan tongue.

Subsequently, several wood-wardens clothed in heavy cloaks emerged around her. While silent, Tauriel more than sensed their palpable relief... especially that of Legolas as he arrived, and approached while the others fanned out to secure the perimeter. "Tauriel," he greeted, "are you unhurt?"

"Legolas." Tauriel smiled, "I am well. No ill befell me in their company."

"Had I given you an escort, this whole affair could have been avoided."

She replied in a calm tone, "No self-deprecation, mellon. What happened, happened. It is in the past now."

While the Prince seemed ready to disagree, "Of course." he belatedly nodded, "While I am surprised of these dwarves' willingness to uphold a bargain, I am relieved they fulfilled it so soon. Beyond our eastern border, there will soon be no safety to be found."

Tauriel cocked her head, "What do you mean?"

"Orcs were sighted, scores and more coming from the south. A horde bound for the eastern realm from Dol Guldur as we speak. But with you now among us and not the dwarves, it-"

"—is no longer our concern?" she asked, her skin most surely deathly pale from the revelation, enough that it silenced her friend, "What of Esgaroth?"

Legolas blinked, "You are aware of our laws. We do not concern ourselves with the outside. They are on their own."

It was impossible on her end to not let a rant make its way up her throat as she thought of the village and its hundreds of souls, and those she just helped to send on their way, "This is ridiculous. We aim to abandon yet again?"

"Tauriel?" he asked, surprised by the outburst. He was well aware of her disagreement with his father's choice of policy in that regard, but this went beyond her usual displeasure. The abject rejection of the idea clear in her eyes were most telling.

"Weapons. Now." she demanded the instant after, "I must go to Lake-town, and warn them of the danger!"

"That is reckless, Tauriel. Can you not see?"

"I see perfectly. We allow such destruction without reprisal, in full knowledge that with each our friends grow fewer. Will it continue till we are surrounded, with no allies, by an army ready to wash our people away? Tell me, mellon, when did we allow Evil to become stronger than us?"

Legolas furrowed his long brows as though in attempt to counter her logic soundly enough to convince her to not go, but failure to conjure such an argument caused him to mildly deflate. Instead he tried to plead, "Please, Tauriel. My father favors you much, but if you choose to defy his will so... he will not forgive you. Leave now and he may not allow you to return."

"Banishment." Tauriel frowned, undaunted much to the surrounding elves' dismay, "If that is to be the price, so be it. Now will I have my weapons, or shall I venture forth unarmed? Choose, and know that no matter which, nothing will stay my course."

Legolas gave her a long look then closed his eyes in deep consideration before finally a decision was made, "You shall have it, but not the leave to go alone."

She blinked in surprise, "Not alone?"

"We both go. As for my father, I shall speak to him once the business is concluded." the Prince stated firmly before he looked to the nearest wood-warden, "Provide her with arms at once. We go soon as ready."

Tauriel felt herself smile. She was fully resolved to go alone, but felt gratefulness wash over her as the friend of hers decided to come with. All that remained, was how to defuse a confrontation should Legolas come across those she unknown to him voluntarily chose to help. But that was a bridge to cross just yet.

 _OoOoO_

For one who spent a fair portion of her life in and near the turbulent sea, the lake was wholly alien in its stillness – the earlier nostalgia now very dead in the water. So pristine and foreboding that H'anigi, if not for the knowledge of this world not being the same as the one from which she came, would have worried that they had accidentally gone and booked a trip to Thal's realm. If anyone else thought similarly, they gave no sign of it.

Her faint trepidation was certainly not helped by the ghostly fog that persisted across the lake like a carpet. It was dreary in its lack of motion. The wind seemed entirely absent.

Momentarily inattentive, she rolled to lean on the railing and shot her tail up in the air – at which Bard stared as it slowly swayed. "H'anigi... was it?" the man asked uncertainly, the name of herself and her kind already volunteered not long after they set out from the warf, "You seemed the most at ease with the water, yet now you seem... nervous."

"... Nothing were this still in Limsa." the miqo'te responded absently, "Through day and night did the sea move, and like it the ships moved, with them the people moved. Nothing ever lay still. If it ever did, not for long."

Bard mouthed the name, "Limsa... is a town?"

"Indeed... This place on the other hand." she ran a delicate hand through the water, cold with the coming winter, "Were it not for the ripples in the water, I would have thought we moved not at all."

"I dare say I've never heard of a place like that."

H'anigi shrugged, "Of course, since both me and it are of a different land altogether. Would tell you more, but it seems I'm about to be called."

"Consider yourself so, H'anigi." Balin confirmed with a call from near the bow where a great number of the dwarves had piled in, "Come."

With a wave she stood and excused herself, and left the bargeman to mull over what she said to himself. Into the throng she subsequently invited herself and leaned bum-first against one of the barrels that lined across the barge in neat small rows. "And the big problem of today is?"

"Not imminent capture in case you wonder." Bofur quipped.

"Don't say that." the miqo'te smirked and eyed the water out the corner of her slitted eyes, "Something in the water might just as well stir and take you up on your offer. Like piratical Sahagin, loathsome fish-men who surge from the depths to take the unwary." she added a ghostly shiver to her tone and caused the dwarf to quickly edge away from the water.

"Cut it out, both of you." Dwalin crossed his arms morosely, "This is no good a time for a story."

"Our current business," Balin looked up, "is to pay the bargeman's fare."

"His name is Bard." Bilbo cut in.

"Quite. So turn out your pockets lads and lass."

H'anigi looked on the silver coins everyone began to pool onto the crate in neat stacks, discomfort visible on her features.

"Is there a problem?" Thorin eyed her expectantly.

"Er, different world, different coins?" Bilbo deadpanned his way to her rescue.

Balin understood, "Mind if I see one?"

"Of course..." she fished out her money pouch from under her jacket and pooled a Gil into her palm. It was certainly smaller than those the dwarves placed forth, but was made of gold, complete with Nymeia the Spinner depicted on the obverse, and a couple of runes on the tails' side that consisted of a stylized G, and a number that denoted the coin's value. Without preamble she handed it over.

"By Durin's beard..." the white-bearded dwarf gasped as he rolled the coin over and took a closer look, "It's gold."

"Gold, you say?" Nori, the group's incorrigible thief, asked interestedly, "That pouch full of gold?"

"My savings. I exchanged all the copper and silver I earned for gold before I started my journey homeward."

"No worries it could get... stolen?"

The miqo'te put hands on hips settled on a thoughtful look, "Why, if some dumb bloke decided to try and relieve me of my hard-earned money, I'd relieve him of his head and crotch – likely not in that order. Does that answer your question?"

Nori shot hands up in a placating manner, to both her and Dwalin who gave him a withering glare, "Fully, lass. Fully."

"Can we please get on with this?" Thorin folded his arms and looked onto the white-bearded dwarf, "Balin, the verdict."

"While the coinage is different, being gold I should think there is no reason for Bard to complain. Given the size and weight, two coins ought to suffice."

"Good, go and pay up. We aren't too far out now."

"At once." Balin said as he accepted the second coin H'anigi promptly surrendered and gathered all the money into a skin pouch before he then marched across the barge and handed it over to the tall man who succinctly accepted – unable to quite keep the resulting grin off his face. What started out as a regular day of hard work had turned out a fine profit.

H'anigi's attention however as she put back her pouch was more on the sight ahead due to Thorin's observation. What was previously just a hazy shadow across the horizon had finally come about to appear in crisp clarity and provided the fair view of a large collection of tightly packed wooden buildings which roots so seamlessly reached into the lake that the village looked as though it floated on the surface.

"Lake-town ahead!" Bard cried out from the back, "Might not be as lively as that place you came from, but you will find it does have its own charm."

"Seeing it now." H'anigi smiled as she appraised the view, "I can believe it."

The bargeman, unable to quite hear her quiet comment on the view, continued, "Before we can make it into the town proper though," as he looked on to the gate straight ahead, complete with a nearby booth that stood up against a section of the great wall that ran along the town's outer edge, "we must pass through the Toll Gate."

"We got to pay extra!?" Glóin started.

"Nay, worry not." Bard rolled his eyes, an action repeated by at least three of the other dwarves – Thorin most prominently. "The fare covers it. Other than that I must have my papers stamped for the job I set out to do."

With practiced monotony did the man guide his barge in till they set up against the booth and disembarked to meet with the man posted in it. They seemed to know one another, and after the regular greeting went right on business. Bard brought out his papers along with the pouch, and told of the number of travelers he's got with this time. H'anigi paid no attention to the exchange and took in the general view till her gaze happened to drift up to a high up window on a house that lay just beyond the wall to the left. Someone had watched them and then departed in a hurry, a quick motion that tugged at the corner of her eyes.

Moments after, she quietly addressed; "Thorin?"

"What is it?" he gruffly asked.

"Someone looked onto us then bolted. It could be nothing..."

"Or it could be trouble." Thorin added thoughtfully, "Question is, who was he working for?"

"Most likely the Master of this town." the bargeman called grimly as he returned from the booth, business swiftly concluded and the pouch of money given by Balin looking somewhat slimmer, "A man who cares only for his own prosperity. Never misses an opportunity to make his coffers ever a little heavier."

Bilbo frowned, "And... how did he wind up the leader if self-enrichment is his only concern?"

With a shrug, Bard returned to the oar while the toll both man, who Bard referred to as Percy, called for the gate to be raised. "People liked him back in the day for being a pretty amicable fellow – not so now. Anyway, you don't need to worry too much about him."

"Why is that?" Kili asked.

"While he is very paranoid about possible opposition to his authority, the threat he pose to you is monetary alone, and will try and squeeze the silver out when opportunity arise – bloodshed's bad for business I am sure you're aware. Exercise caution and there will be no extra coin in his purse at your expense."

A small racket started, and the gate was raised. It caused further conversation to halt for the duration, until it was finally up, and Bard had the barge removed from the wharf and gently steered it through. H'anigi anticipated her first glimpse of the village's interior, its hustle and bustle.

But while the place was far from lifeless, with many people out despite the chilly air, the pace at which they went about whatever business occupied them at the moment was fairly lackadaisical. So her interest in them soon waned and instead looked onto a bridge they drifted toward as a pile of kids rolled onto it and oohed at them. Momentarily H'anigi lost herself in the thought of a future she hoped remained in reach and smiled passingly in a maternal manner as the five messily clothed boys and girls reached for her, their tiny palms wide as if to grab.

"Cat lady!" a little girl bleated in awe, "Can I touch your ears?"

"No touching." H'anigi playfully grinned at them while they tried to reach for her flicking ears as they drifted past. Not about to give up though, the bunch ran to the other side and tried again. But there were at least a three feet clearance, so no attempt came even close. That was when a woman came onto the bridge and shooed them at having shown such rudeness. An action taken because she suspected them of harassing a visiting elf, until she found the miqo'te and gaped dumbly.

Inevitably the attention toward her and the others grew as Bard took the most direct route homeward possible, which brought them through what seemed to be a market place where merchants peddled their wares. Many of these forgotten as eyes found Bard's barge full of outsiders. In this H'anigi noticed a pattern... that while young ones focused on her like those kids earlier, all the older people explicitly favored the dwarves.

Balin seemed entirely immune to the attention as he analytically peered at each shop and made mental notes.

"What are they talking about?" Bilbo asked out of the blue as he watched the older humans who started all of a sudden to chat animatedly with a sort of energy they seemed entirely bereft of mere moments ago.

The bargeman grimaced in distaste, "There's a prophecy that says that the King under the Mountain will one day return and lay claim to what is his. An event that would promise prosperity for all around if it ever came to pass. Fools I call them."

"You seem none too pleased."

"And I am right to. They forget about Smaug, and what the beast would do if his sleep was ever disturbed. We have altogether too few a number of wind lances to fight back with."

"Wind lances?" Dwalin croaked the question, "You have wind lances here?!"

Bilbo furrowed his brows, "What are those?"

"Weapons." Thorin growled, though he stared into thin air like he just saw a ghost, "With black arrows those make the only tool that can pierce a dragon's hide. Dale had several... and their warriors fought back fiercely with Lord Girion at the fore when Smaug assailed the mountain. If the aim of Men had been true that day... much would have been different."

"You speak as though you were there." Bard said.

Dwalin folded his arms, "All dwarves know the tale."

"Not that Girion did manage to shoot loose a scale from Smaug's belly in any case, as the story say."

"Just a story." he chuckled.

While they engaged in the little argument of theirs, H'anigi made a belated discovery she was certain Bilbo would be delighted to know. So quickly she extended an arm to prod the hobbit on his head, "Bilbo, come here!"

Bilbo who was so far quite engrossed in the story of Dale's futile resistance to Smaug's attack blinked at the poke and pulled himself from the throng to stand by her side, brows furrowed, "Did you see something?" he wondered.

"That over there." the miqo'te pointed to a place they just passed. While the building seemed ubiquitous enough, its foundation was far stronger than those of its neighbors, and the chimney belched smoke a bit too thick to be of a simple fireplace – unless the locals prefer the use of wood that produce a lot of it. The hobbit's expression might just as well had be a giant question mark, but one that turned into an exclamation mark as realization struck. "Told you there would be a smithy here." she told him with a bright smile.

 _OoOoO_

Words could not adequately translate how glad he was, relieved of at least one worry. Back from when he first laid eyes on Lake-town he was concerned that a place so thoroughly made of wood, placed right in the middle of a lake, could not possibly include a smithy – the one thing he needed the most, to rid himself of the abomination that still lay in his pocket yet impossible to toss away – for if he tried, it would surely have forced him to go and fetch it... and damn anything or anyone who got in his way.

That left only one way to solve his predicament. It had to be destroyed in as short an order as possible.

Danger still lay ahead on their journey, but at this junction it was something he was well willing to brave even without the ring's admittedly useful ability.

Bilbo wanted to leave the barge at the moment of that smithy's discovery, but kept himself rooted in place for long enough to reach Bard's dwelling. When they finally disembarked and milled toward the home with Bard in the lead, Bilbo went ahead to Thorin, "Pardon me, but I need to excuse myself for a little while."

The dwarf slowed down and stared back with a raised brow, "And what pray tell is your errand?"

"A visit to the local smithy. Won't take long."

"Why a smithy?" Thorin voiced in obvious confusion, why visit one when the only relevant tool on him was an elvish blade that had been lost to the elves for who knows how many centuries yet failed to lose even a fraction of its sharpness. Armor certainly would not help his assigned task, burglary, in any way.

Bilbo thought hard on it, but was saved from the effort when H'anigi marched up to him from behind and applied the weight of her hands upon the shoulders of his, "I just need to have my weapon fixed up after all the tough chops I've put it through." she cheerfully said, "And Bilbo was cute enough to offer escort."

That made a whole lot more sense, and Thorin nodded his approval. "Fair enough. Go and get it done, return before the sun falls."

"Understood." H'anigi said and released her hold on the hobbit to beat a hand on her voluminous bosom.

Without further ado, the leading dwarf rejoined the others as they trailed up the narrow walkway to the entrance of Bard's home, and left the two behind to peel away and head onto their errand. "Thanks for that." Bilbo gratefully said.

She chuckled, "Not a problem."

Eagerly they followed the waterway back toward the market place, which took them through several narrow walkways and bridges. While it was straightforward enough, the trip into the town's depths did have bumps of its own. And the most prominent was a suspicion of being followed that nagged and prodded at him with all the fervor of the obsessed.

"H'anigi?" he asked when it became nigh unbearable.

"I know." the miqo'te subtly looked over her shoulder and into the distance, at a strangely well-dressed man who started to tail them not even a minute after they left the others. "Can't be sure, but our little spy at the Toll Gate likely alerted the town's Master. And suspicious of the sudden influx of travelers, he sent his servants to keep an eye on Bard and us."

"Bard did say he's paranoid." Bilbo muttered thoughtfully.

"Hence my theory, but it's no more than that." she shrugged, "Could just as well be a pickpocket for all we know, eying for a chance to take from us."

He did not like either possibility, and let his face sink.

The miqo'te subsequently elbowed him in a light manner, "No pouting. Pursuer or not I am more in danger if something should happen."

It took a moment to think of how, and was immediately ashamed it took that long to figure out. While she was more than able to defend herself, if some thug decided to come at them, loot would likely be the proverbial side dish next to the woman herself. The characteristics that set her apart from everyone else also provided an exotic aesthetic that made an already stunning woman all the more alluring to the eye. Suddenly the lie she applied to convince Thorin rang with a great deal of truth.

Thankfully nothing like that happened as they traversed the remaining distance, though a few ruffians did look at them more intently than was comfortable at a narrow divide just barely wide enough to warrant a bridge. And in eventual inevitability, they finally found themselves in front of the smithy.

"I'd ask you to pinch me, just to make sure this is true... but..." Bilbo hummed at the sight, unblinking as if the place would disappear if he closed his eyes even once, "I say instead we go for it."

H'anigi laughed, "Don't jinx it." as they headed in, and found the place to be exactly as hoped. Fire crackled in the place's small coal forge, neighbor to a pair of rather light anvils spaced out nearby, along with various heavy tools that lined the walls while smaller ones lay on tables. It was a simple smithy, nothing more and nothing less. Functional. Currently the forge-master, a heavily muscled man, negotiated with a customer over the prize of knives while his apprentice blacksmith worked in the back on something else.

Except to spare a glance, one with the by now usual disbelief, the forge-master forged on till the negotiation was completed and the customer gone with the newly bought wares. He approached them next, warily, "Can I help you?"

"Yes." the miqo'te took the word, "We aren't here to order something, rather what we want is to have something destroyed."

The burly man grimaced, "I guess we can do that. What is it you want broken?"

Gripped momentarily by nervousness by an implied gesture of hers for him to bring the ring forward, Bilbo reached into his pocket and in a burst of intense concentration got himself to curl his hand round the thing that disturbed him so. He brought it out slowly and unfolded the hand to reveal what seemed to the man like nothing truly extraordinary. Or at least as mundane as an immaculate golden ring could be. "This is it." Bilbo said, and felt himself be worked against, as though it sensed his intent and radiated nothing but contempt for it.

"Truly? You certain you want such a beautiful ring broken?" the forge-master expressed his surprise as he extended a hand to pluck it out of the hobbit's palm, but was stopped when H'anigi put her own against his wrist.

"Careful." H'anigi cautioned, "You must not touch it. While the ring is pretty, it is also magical... and quite possibly dangerous. Hence why we want it broken."

"Oh... okay." the forge-master seemed dubious, and his apprentice even more so as he stopped to watch, but decided to roll with it. "Come with me."

Bilbo followed him to the forge with H'anigi close behind, where the burly man took up a tong and with it extracted a scorched crucible from the furnace and held it toward him, distant enough that he would not touch it by accident as the object seared the air such that it trembled.

"Put it in, and we'll see if that 'magical' ring of yours can stand up to this."

With a dazed look, Bilbo savored the moment before he forced himself to extend his arm, and tilted the hand gradually to have the ring dropped to its doom. To the surprise of all present, so stubborn was it to leave his hand that it only started to slip once the limb provided a near vertical drop. Only when the hand was fully upended could it no longer stay attached and fell, and slammed into the crucible's bottom with the audible boom of impact that usually could only be produced by something far heavier. "Holy..." the forge-master gasped with newly found respect for their claim, and hurriedly inserted the crucible back into the forge.

"Now we just wait, and hope it sticks." H'anigi said with a good grip on Bilbo's shoulder.

Without knowing, once he dropped it he had almost automatically tried to close in and retrieve the ring. "T-t-thank you..." he stuttered, the voice more shaky than he thought it would be as he fought to keep a hold of himself.

"You're welcome..." the miqo'te said quietly as she pulled him away from the forge, just in case of a relapse.

"Get on it you fool!" the burly man called for his apprentice, "Up the heat as much as possible. So hot even the demons of legend would quiver!"

A tense stretch of time followed as the forge-master and apprentice worked at it. They fed in more coal, and frequently put the bellows to it to further fan the flames. But while they did their best, Bilbo felt a deep-rooted fear, like he now suspected the process would not be nearly enough. He did not know its current state, but continued to feel like he ought to force himself past them and pull the ring back out. A sensation that simply refused to go away. An obsession that fought to take control of him, only kept at bay as he pinched his own flesh the tightest he could.

After another while, he finally spoke the words he did not want to let out for fear that it was the truth, "It's... not working." A claim that was finally confirmed as the forge-master took up the tong again and retrieved the crucible – his face turned into a look of bewilderment as he looked into the bowl, and upended it so the item within could fall onto the anvil he directed it at.

"I cannot believe it." the man mouthed as the ring landed, completely undamaged. Not scorched in the least, to the point it seemed completely contemptuous of their efforts. It was however far from spotless, as red-hot writings had somehow appeared across the ring's outer surface, as though summoned by the flames.

H'anigi narrowed her eyes at the strange signs, "What are those writings?"

"... Looks like some kind of elvish..." Bilbo grit his teeth as he attempted to gleam something from them, but without success in any form. Instead he felt a growing sick to his stomach. "I can't read it."

"Doesn't matter. We put hard against hard!" the burly man went and picked up a large sledgehammer, "Hold it up for me."

The apprentice did so with a tong and kept it in place on end. "Ready." the youth firmly said.

"Heave... and ho!" he swung the massive hammer over his head and brought it down on the cursed item with all the strength and momentum he could put into the blow. Had the ring been of the usual sort, this would have been enough to crumple it into a lump of metal or shatter it into pieces.

Instead, when the blow landed... it was the hammer that shattered into a hundred broken shards as a shock wave came forth... powerful enough that it also hurled all in the room off their feet, and while at it fed into Bilbo's mind a thunderous booming voice that growled in a blackened language that darkened the room in a manner worse than the shadowed veil cast by the ring while worn. It sounded furious.

And Bilbo screamed in agony until he could stand it no more... and blacked out.

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi fared better than the rest as the explosive wave of condensed aether washed over them, and managed just barely to curl up enough to protect her head from a harsh impact against the floor. This was altogether too familiar to strike her as something new, and she quickly rose to go check up on her friend, who on the other hand had fainted after he emitted a most terrible scream of pain.

No doubt it was the ring that somehow inflicted Bilbo with such agony, punishment for what he attempted to have them do to it, for a cursory check revealed no injury. That last bit was at least a relief.

Gently she rolled him onto the side, just in case, before she next went and checked up on the two other males who wriggled awkwardly on the floor. "Urgh.." the forge-master growled, "W-what happened?"

"It seems," H'anigi looked at the item which had come to rest on the forge, defiantly undamaged, "that we underestimated the ring. Not even a scratch on the twelve-damned thing."

"Curse it... and my trusty tong and sledgehammer's ruined. You understand that someone got to pay for the damage, right?"

She winced, and after the quick extraction of her pouch pooled several gold coins as she hoped would suffice into his proffered hand. A sight that would have caused his eyes to bug out in astonishment if it was not for the ache that lingered from his impact against the hard floor. "Will this be enough...?"

"Odd coins, but seems like it..." he sat up slowly to count and browse through the money, surprisingly nonchalant given the situation, "Perhaps... two more than I need."

"Pretty honest, aren't you?"

"I'm a professional, miss. As such I take it damned personal to have failed my customer in this venture. My apologies."

"Okay... keep the rest. But tell no one what exactly happened here." she decided and returned to the comatose Bilbo, but not before she with a piece of the tong shattered by that blast took the ring off the anvil and regretfully returned it to Bilbo's pocket. While she'd love to have it remain behind, to do so was all too risky. Besides, someone else might take the bloody thing. "Call it an accident."

Bard's warning as to what the town's Master would do if given the chance rang in her ears.

The forge-master eyed her for a moment, "Will do. Best of luck finding someone able to put a blow through that thing."

"My thanks. Now if you excuse me." H'anigi continued as she pulled the still-unconscious Bilbo off the floor and half-carried him on the way out, to try and see if a some handful of cold water might rouse him. "I got to wake my friend."

But the worst had yet to come, as the aether released by the ring traveled much further then the miqo'te could imagine possible. And a region away, a powerful mind took notice of the attempted destruction of something it eerily recognized and turned its attention formerly so fixed upon the lonely mountain onto Lake-town. It hissed its black language into the winds, a call immediately obeyed as a vast flight of bats took to the sky and swarmed to the north-east, to bring a message, a new order to complement the one previously given, to the leader of the orcs previously dispatched: Bolg, son of Azog.

An order to sack Lake-town to the bone.

* * *

 **Author notes:** Another chapter done, some parts of it were almost physically painful to write. Much talk but little action. In other notes:

1\. I am not a trained chef, and have only seen the splitting of meat by hand done on birds. Not sure if it is at all possible with deers. But when the dwarves were captured earlier I figured it would not make any sense for the elves to let the dwarves keep any kind of sharp instruments. So for the lack of means... One way would have been to use Bilbo's Sting, but I wanted Bombur to have a moment to shine.

2\. Figured that Gandalf's quest to Dol Guldur was rather foolhardy, but I guess he supposed Sauron was weak enough for his further banishment to be possible without knowing that while weakened from losing the ring he was certainly strong enough. In any case, Gandalf's one-wizard assault on Dol Guldur will be an important catalyst here for later events. How? Wait and ye shall see.

3\. Bard's reluctance to help the dwarves in the movie was due to his fear of Thranduil's wrath. In this story they met with an elf in the lead, so the bargeman naturally was far more willing to lend a hand. Less risk involved.

4\. Could not find the room for Alfrid, which is just as well. Neither could I comfortably include Bain. Oh well, later.

5\. As another catalyst for later events, I decided to present a situation where Sauron would notice the possible whereabouts of his One Ring long before he and his forcesare ready to actively search for it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Siege of Lake-town**

* * *

From the outside, the town hall looked no different from its neighbors aside from its greater size and veneer of opulence. It was the closest thing to a palace in Lake-town, and on the inside it in its lavish luxury certainly was. While great enough that a couple of families could have lived within with much space to spare, it was the home of just one man – the Master of Lake-town.

His appearance was that of a corpulent noble – some would rather say buffoon – who was finely dressed in rich fabrics... in large part due to the taxes that have filled his coffers with gold. While not incompetent, much has been lost to his greed to grow his riches all the more. Sure this would have led to his impeachment, but the right bribes to the right people, due to having just enough of a pragmatic sense to do so, allowed him to keep his seat of authority as he believed to be his right.

Yes, the Master sat quite snug and safely at his desk, where he did what paperwork he needed to do while he sipped from fine wine and ate delicious food that had just been brought to him. That is, safe from all but one man – a lowlife bargeman by name of Bard who was well-liked by the common townsfolk.

Such insolence.

Had his quill been any more fragile, he would surely have broken it as his blubbery hand tightened at the thought of that potential challenger to his authority regardless of that man's distance. It was too bad that problem could not be solved by force of arms as such could only weaken his own standing and create a martyr. Instead he had his men keep an eye on him for any crime or outrageous thing he could use to transfix him with.

Annoyed by both the lowlife and his own fury, he poured himself some more wine and drank deeply to help calm his nerves. A motion interrupted halfway as someone knocked at his door in too smarmy a way to be any but his adviser. "Come in." he put down the goblet and barked.

The door was opened and one of the very few men in town he could trust without question ambled in. "Good day, my lord. I come bearing some interesting tidings." Alfrid Lickspittle announced as he approached, his smile a sly one.

"Oh?" the Master raised an eyebrow, "Go on, don't keep me in suspense."

"It has come to my attention, courtesy of one among our informants, that Bard has returned to town with the latest emptied batch of Dorwinian barrels as is his job – along with a mess of outsiders who are currently his guests."

Less than he hoped for, but more than he expected. "What manner of outsiders?" his raised brow creased.

"Thirteen dwarves, a small man we believe could be a halfling, and a woman of a kind we know not." Alfrid spread his hands and shrugged. "More importantly, they bear gold."

"Gold?" the Master smirked, certain that his eyes glittered at the mention. "Are you certain?"

"Almost." Alfrid admitted, "Soon after they arrived at Bard's dwelling, his eldest daughter went and bought wares she paid for with, among other coins, a single gold piece. On timing alone, it was certainly part of the fare paid by the outsiders."

"Are these travelers short of anything?" he asked next, quite sure his adviser read his intentions.

"Hard to say, but I dare wager the lot seem lighter than they like." the trusted councilor nodded, "Shall I encourage the shops to raise their prices for this and the next day?"

The Master coughed, "Covertly, mind you." _Followed by heightened taxes for the select merchants._

"Of course." Alfrid nodded in understanding. "I'll get right on that."

"Good, now go."

Alfrid bowed and departed in due haste.

While this would not help him drag down that bargeman, it would net him some more gold for his coffers. So in a bout of self-congratulation, he poured some more exquisite wine and resumed his indulgence – his mood a fair bit brighter for it.

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi tried her best to wake Bilbo after he fainted from that catastrophic failure to destroy the ring, but even dipping his head into the cold lake roused him to do no more than stir. So she half-carried him back to Bard's house and concocted a white lie, that some thug had tried to put a hand on her and Bilbo got struck upside the head when he intervened.

Approval of the hobbit's bravery grew to be the consensus among the dwarves and they let the matter lie. It helped that there was a tiny smidgen of truth to it, especially as to the resolution of that encounter. Some thug did try to get to her on the way back seeing as she couldn't exactly leave the hobbit – who weighed her down and prevented escape – behind. She subsequently introduced the thug head-first to the lake and left him for his sufficiently cowed comrades to fish out.

 _Speaking of fish..._ the miqo'te moistened her lips at the thought, _I could go for some fish right now._

But with Bilbo wrapped up in furs and sleeping on the couch by the window, and most of the dwarves out to purchase what they need for the continuation of their journey, she for the time being could not further entertain that desire and instead hoped the food later would include some. Being a maritime village, surely they subsisted in large part to what they caught out in the waters.

As she thought on this however, a familiar yet unfamiliar but so delicious scent drifted into her nostrils and drew a quick reaction. Like lightning she rolled herself about on the sleeping fur they laid out for her on the floor and shot her arms, claws ready to be used, up at the originator of that scent, only to find the object abruptly distant.

H'anigi blinked drowsily and found the house's youngest resident, Tilda, close by with a big fish in hand, and a wide grin of confirmation. "She really _is_ like a cat!"

"Tilda..." Sigrid groaned from where she stood at the kitchen table, exasperated with her little sister's antics. But the girl seemed unrepentant as all she did was toss the fish to her sibling and ran out with a few words spent, something about telling her friends.

"Auf..." the miqo'te yawned as she sat herself up, "That... wasn't cute at all."

Sigrid grimaced, "I'm really sorry about that. Should have known she removed that fish for so mischievous a reason..."

H'anigi sighed and was about to give her response when the main entrance was opened again and the absent majority of dwarves – and man – returned, every one to the last of whom practically seethed in frustration. And none of them more so than Thorin as he sat heavily at the table and rested his head on a palm. "So... how did it go?" Bofur who was among those who didn't go asked, and winced at the glares received in return.

"Just horribly." Balin sighed as he too sat himself before any cruder an answer could be given, "All the shops we checked are selling goods only at exorbitant and unreasonable prices."

"Must be the Master's fault. Him and his greed." Bard spoke up as he closed the door behind them, "Probably convinced the merchants to up the price, with every intention to squeeze them dry once the deed's done."

"And how, pray tell," Dwalin growled, still on his feet with arms folded, "did these merchants let themselves be talked into it if they knew what would happen next?!"

Glóin huffed tiredly as he sat grumpily, "It's nothing but simple opportunism, Dwalin. If he's got informants to his name, he probably spread some rumor about newly arrived people with a whole lot of coin... This then encouraged merchants who eye an opportunity to hoist their prices, unaware that they're dancing to the Master's tune."

"And he wrongly assumes we've a lot of coins to spend. So here we are." Balin sighed.

Dwalin cursed, his brow creased into a look of white-hot fury, "I've a mind to go and tell that filth just who he's dealing with."

"You will do no such thing, my friend." Thorin stopped the line of thought with a frown, but did not put to word any hints for those outside the company to hear. "What we should do is try and solve this dilemma without causing undue trouble. There must be some merchant somewhere who are wont to not fall for such a ploy." He paused in thought before he looked to Bard, "Do you happen to know someone like that?"

"I know a great many, but few of them are merchants." Bard replied somberly as he approached the table with arms folded, "All of them eager for opportunities that come, I am sorry to say."

"..." Dwalin sighed his frustration out, "So we have no choice but to look all over town and hope for such a person who might not even exist."

"If you don't mind me suggesting," H'anigi coughed to get their attention as a thought came to mind, "how about we hit some local tavern and ask around?" and lounged against the wall, her eyes faintly lit in the half-dark as what interior light reflected off of them, "We might just come across something."

The dwarves blinked and exchanged looks.

"Might be an idea." Kili mused.

"A golden one." Glóin nodded approvingly, "Shouldn't be too difficult. A few of us go out there, split up, and ask about in each our bar. Bargeman, how many taverns are here?"

"Only one," Bard stated, "two if I count the shady pub on the north side – I don't recommend it."

"But if we are going to attempt this, we might just as well put both to use." Balin said thoughtfully, "Question is, who will go?"

Dwalin narrowed eyes at him, "Why not all of us?"

"We don't want to attract too much attention." Thorin gave him a pointed look before he looked on all of them, "Two small groups should more than suffice for the task." It did not take him long to mull over exactly who he believed suitable. "Fili, Kili and Nori, I want you three down at the pub."

"Piece of cake." Nori accepted.

Fili followed suit, "We won't let you down, uncle."

"I know you won't." Thorin allowed a brief smile, "As for the tavern. Balin, I want you, Dwalin and H'anigi to go there."

"Will do." Dwalin said.

H'anigi on the other hand protested mildly; "Given that I am one of the few in our company to have a weapon handy, should I not be among those going to the shadier place?"

"On the contrary, you go where I tell you to go. As for your weapon, leave it here."

She wasn't quite happy with that, but reluctantly conceded, "Alright... fine."

Thorin's attention was quickly back on the rest, though his gaze was directed specially onto those who would take part of the given assignment, "You do not need to know how important this. Fail and we may end up stuck here until they return to prices actually sane."

Not a word was uttered as to what kind of risks lurked if they stayed too long. This had to work, no matter what it takes.

 _OoOoO_

It was somewhat late in the afternoon, with evening not too far round the corner and the corpulent Master of Lake-town was by that time long done with his work and enjoyed a lavish feast when an intrusion soured his momentarily merry mood. He lowered the chicken-leg held in his blubbery left hand and shot a good look to the entrance when it was opened to let Braga, Lake-town's Captain of the Guard, through without as much as a single knock on the well-furbished wood.

The taller man at the very least knew enough decorum to snap a salute, "My lord."

He scrunched up his face in consternation, "I do hope you have a good reason for barging in during my meal..."

"I do, my lord." Braga stiffly replied, "We have guests... who have requested an audience."

"Tell them to come on the morrow." he dismissed.

The Captain shifted nervously, "They insist this audience must take place immediately."

"And why is that? Who is it?"

Braga leaned slightly closer, "It's... the Crown Prince of Mirkwood."

To hear this audience would be done with visiting royalty almost made the Master choke on his food upon the realization of how close he had come to offend. That surely would have been the death-knell of his position. "S-show him in at once!" he quacked and did his best to with a napkin clean his hands and brush off any crumbs that stained his clothes as Braga extracted himself through the open door to summon the visitor, or visitors, as surely the Crown Prince did not come here on his lonesome.

It only took a few moments for the Captain to return and stand aside, just in time to allow the honorable son of King Thranduil to pass, Legolas was the name if memory served. His attire was simplistic but sufficiently clean and fair that it made the Master in his fineries momentarily feel like he was dressed like a clown. In his wake came a more slender but no less tall figure, a woman who despite simpler wear than her liege outshone those around her. The Master beheld them in faint awe of their fairness before his composure settled. "Welcome to Lake-town, Son of King Thranduil." he greeted humbly as he was expected to. Surely if this goes well, his reputation would get a good boost.

"My greetings, Master of Lake-town." the blonde elf replied tactfully, though he did snort faintly at the scent of cooked meats on the nearby table. It provided as good a hint as any that to offer him some of the food wouldn't be proper. "That said, I request that we dispense with formality, for we carry ill tidings."

The Master thought for a moment he heard wrong, and mentally checked those words again before the meaning fully conveyed itself. He had hoped business would be made, instead something far more unpleasant has come up, of that he was certain. "Ill tidings?" he parroted lamely, "What has happened?"

"Our sentries very recently learned there are scores of orcs out on the plains. Orcs that are headed this way in a most frenzied fashion, like they are being whipped onward by their master."

"Orcs are coming here?!" He gasped and saw his own skin turn positively green from the wave of anxiety that followed.

"They are." the elven Prince replied with a grim nod, "If you immediately start preparation to repel the attack, you may just make it in time for their arrival."

Terrified at the prospect of such an attack, he turned to Braga, "C-Captain! Muster the Guard at once!" and watched for the instant it took the man to give a nod and run without as much as a salute, which was just as well. Decorum was no longer important, just haste and a lot more of it. He tried to address the elven Prince, but found his nerves all frazzled from the dire news, "W-we thank y-you for the warning. How m-many warriors did you bring along to aid us?"

"None," the elf stated bluntly, "as you should be well aware. Our intention was no more than to deliver the warning and be on our way."

At first the Master could not help but feel worried and not a little disappointed, but tilted his head at the all but spoken 'but' in his reply; "Was?"

The Prince looked off into a direction like his eyes could see the orcs even with the whole town in the way, "The fiends have covered a great distance since they were first discovered. More than we anticipated. So it would seem we have little choice but to lend our bows to the struggle. I only pray that your men are up to the challenge, for these are no marauding bandits and are led by a beast most vile."

 _OoOoO_

Tauriel breathed in relief once they vacated the town hall, the overpowered smell of roasted meat had made it hard to keep her composure. And even worse was the professed Master of this town, so unkempt and greasy that she could not help but be disgusted by the man. She followed Legolas a distance from the door before she found her misgivings fade enough to quip, "You certainly held little back. If I did not know better, I would say you further frightened him just to see if he could grow green enough to turn a toad."

"Better he understand the peril too much rather than too little." Legolas shrugged, though he did give off a smile, "We must stress the danger. Little more than a few hundred people live here, a thousand strong at best, and of them there cannot be much greater a number beyond a hundred guardsmen..."

"We will be hard pressed." Tauriel echoed.

"Indeed."

They soon entered an intersection where Legolas slowed to a stop, not one look dedicated to the locals who stopped to look at them, and faced her with arms wrapped up across his chest. His solemn expression one that contrasted the drunken laughter that came from the large building behind him, "If only we could have found and captured those dwarves who took you away from us."

"It was regrettable, but they did not wrong me beyond that." Tauriel said placatingly, her eyes slightly wider as she looked just past his left ear.

As he continued, with a protest, two of the dwarves he so disliked ambled into view along with the cat woman who favored the tavern with a long look as they made their approach without Legolas' knowledge. Only the feline did belatedly notice, looked alarmed for an instant, raised a hand to her lips in what looked like an 'Oh' realization, and daintily waved as though to wish her luck. Tauriel's desire to tell the feline this isn't part of some kind of courtship ritual was... immense. Instead, while Legolas' gaze momentarily left for the ground, she hurried mouthed 'Out!'. To this the miqo'te blinked, and vaguely nodded before she then followed the dwarves into the tavern.

"Are you well, Tauriel?" Legolas looked on her oddly, oblivious, "You seem distant."

"I am well, thank you." Tauriel replied with a strained grin. Now to draw the male away from here... which was easy given the situation: "We should join the guardsmen, make sure they are ready and pick some good positions for ourselves..."

He nodded, "Let us be on our way then."

And so as they made their way past and away from the tavern, Tauriel quietly marveled at how close a call that was.

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi followed Balin's lead into the tavern, and had to struggle not to laugh at the look of Tauriel's scandalized expression at the nonverbal assumption lent in jest that she was here on a date with that prissy blonde who she believed greatly fancied his brown-haired compatriot. That was at least the impression she got during that little negotiation back in the forest. The hints certainly were there.

Still, Tauriel's mouthed word and pleading eyes seemed a warning of something to come – possibly the reason why they came here for – and wanted the company out. But whatever was about to go down, they could not leave without certain essentials.

So she brushed all of that aside for now in favor of the smell of alcohol that hung thickly in the air and she looked round at all the people present, the vast majority of the current clientele being men who probably came here to unwind after work with a few tankards of ale.

"Spread out and try not to get into trouble." Balin whispered as they passed the counter, "Especially you, H'anigi. This is much worse a den than I feared, especially for a woman."

"Huh." Dwalin chuckled lowly, "Balin, I'd pity the lad dumb enough to force himself on her."

"Do not worry, Balin." H'anigi replied and smiled confidently, "I got this."

The elderly dwarf replied with a reluctant nod and with one last exchange of looks they parted ways to start pursuit of the information they needed. Balin went to an available seat at the counter while Dwalin headed to where the crowds are the thickest. H'anigi on the other hand looked out across the crowd until she found a table where a group busily played a game of dice with a fair amount of coins on the line. One had just won and whooped as he raked in the fifteen or so silver coins much to the others dismay.

She smiled at this and made her approach with the most enticing smirk and posture, one hand firmly on her right hip. Something that earned her more than a few lecherous looks that ignored her peculiarities in favor of what they more saw in women in the drunk state they are currently in.

And when she drew closer, there came a conversation from the table that made her smile a little wider.

"Damn it thrice and back." a young fellow grumbled his displeasure, face buried in his hands, "How do you keep winning?!"

"I already told you why." the dark-haired fellow on the opposite side of the table chuckled coarsely as he shook his hand, loaded with at least a dozen dice, "Luck is simply on my side. Want to prove me wrong? Then come at me, I accept all challengers."

The bald old man next to him groaned, "I'm out. Any more silver lost and my wife will kill me."

"Coward." he chuckled dryly.

"Better than being stupid." another old man, this one with a thick gray beard, growled as he pushed himself from the table.

But the boy on the other hand could not leave well enough alone and reached into his pocket for more money to the dismay of the elderly who tried to intervene. Tried to, until H'anigi caught his wrist mid-motion, "Whoa there, kid. Don't do something you'd sooner regret."

He whipped around to retort, only to stop dead and gape dumbly in astonishment at the feline-like woman – her face first, followed by a clumsy glance at her large chest. The dark-haired man likewise stared but to his credit composed himself much faster, "Let the fool do as he like. If he thinks he can break my luck he may just as well try."

The miqo'te chuckled softly as she let go of the youth, "There's no need for him to get involved. Your opponent will be me."

"Lass... don't, it's not worth it." the bald man warned.

"On the contrary." H'anigi answered and sat herself down on the closest of two chairs vacated by the two elderly who looked on in disbelief, "This will be priceless."

"Brave girl." the gambler licked his lips as he tightened his palm round the dices, "Bravery won't help you though."

She waved a dismissive hand, "Neither will a big mouth. Get on with it."

"Gladly." he narrowed his eyes irritatedly, "Game's simple. Each of us will roll thrice. The one with the most points win. If you have the guts, place your bet."

Immediately she fished up a couple of gold coins, and put them right in the center of the table. "This is my bet. Now show me yours."

For a moment the gambler boggled before he shook his head and fed in enough silver to equal the gold coins worth. "N-not bad, too bad your guts won't hold up against my luck."

"Then throw, and we'll see."

He did so, and a dozen dices clattered onto the table, and seven of them wound up with sixes. A feat at which he gave her a confident grin before he counted the score, gathered the dices and threw them again. Once again a very similar result, just with one less six. It was all too apparent that a cheat was in motion. Especially as the final throw wound up with another six. _Are the locals dimwitted or is this guy that good an actor?_ H'anigi wasn't sure which to pick. She'd know once the dices are handed over.

"One hundred and sixty-five." the dark-haired man declared with triumph, "Let us here see you beat that."

H'anigi nodded and reached out to receive the dices in turn and weighted them carefully in the palm she curled around them. At first nothing seemed wrong with them, but she focused on one dice she had kept an eye on since they were last played – one of those that persistently rolled a six in each turn. And there she decided neither of her assumption were correct. Some of these dices, six of them to be more precise, had been tampered with in so faint a fashion that most would not notice the deception. Thrown correctly they would produce only sixes.

Too bad for him, this marauder used to live in Limsa Lominsa where the ground rule in most games between pirates isn't about playing fair, but to not get caught in the act. Having lived that life, she knew a few tricks... which included that particular throw for dice games like this.

Still, she behaved like she was oblivious and tossed the pile of dice. And to the shock the gambler and that of her onlookers – a crowd that had grown partly just to enjoy the eye-candy from somewhere close – the six of the dices wound up with sixes. The second wound up with eight sixes, and the third with six sixes again. Coupled with slightly worse than his with the remaining dices and she won with a hundred and seventy-one.

"I-impossible..." the gambler gasped in a hoarse tone that was drowned out by the combined hurray of their abruptly greater audience.

H'anigi triumphantly reached for the money and raked them in as she transfixed the loser with a mischievous look, "So much for your... luck. Not that you actually were lucky at any point~"

He froze – eyes wide in dawning horror.

"Huh?" the bald man quacked as confusion set in for all around.

The bearded fellow blinked in similar surprise, "What do you mean?"

For the initial reply, H'anigi fished up one of the dices before he could take them back and tossed it to the bearded man, who deftly caught it with a calloused hand and looked at her perplexedly. "This and five of the other dices have been tampered with. Roll it across your hand carefully... and you'll notice a side's heavier than the others."

Silence around the table reigned for a few moments as the bearded elder tested this theory, and found that it was indeed as she said it was. Moments where the gambler tried to excuse himself but was surrounded by other people who probably played the game and lost.

Two things allowed the peculiarity to go unnoticed. The first was that no participants used different dices. And secondly; they needed to hold and dish out all of them at once with one hand. H'anigi simply sat there, lounged, and watched as these simple truths occurred to all present.

"Fraud." one began quietly, seething.

"Swindler!" another shouted.

And the hopeless gambler proceeded to vanish under a pile of fists and limbs as the people who were cheated by his fraudulent play ganged up on him. She had no doubt he'd be torn to pieces if the burly barkeep did not intervene to break up the fight with his sheer presence before he took up the pummeled criminal and frogmarched him away – once the money he received from his 'wins' were doled back to their owners.

There was however a surplus, since the gambler did need to have money to start those fraudulent bets of his. So H'anigi got to keep the stack of silver she won, and atop of that received a pint of ale as a 'thank you' gift. A tankard she took happy sips from, glad to finally have something with a kick to it since she came to these strange lands.

"Name's Charles." the bearded elder introduced himself as he invited himself to sit on the opposite side of the table.

"H'anigi Tohl." she returned the courtesy.

"It was a damned good thing you did back there, exposing that fraud for what he was."

She smiled accommodatingly, "Glad to help."

"That said, if there's anything you want... I'll do my best to accommodate. It's the least I can do."

"Well... if you insist." H'anigi hummed curiously, "You've noticed that the local merchants have been charging their wares for rather outrageous prices, right?"

"Aye, I have." Charles grunted in distaste and replied in the affirmative, "They've been a bunch of blood suckers since a while ago."

"Yeah. But do you happen to know some merchant with enough principle to his name not to be too greedy?"

He considered the question, and confirmed, "Hmm. As a matter of fact, I do. There is a traveling merchant whose age made him settle down here a while ago, a man of principle if I ever saw one. Head down to the west side and ask for a man named Sigismu-" but was unfortunately interrupted mid-word as the entrance door was slammed open and a bunch of people ran in, screaming at the top of their lungs in terror while the world outside seemed to be in a state of bedlam with the distant cacophony of further shouts mixed in with the loud ring of bells.

"Orcs!" a woman yelled, "Orcs are attacking us!"

The whole clientele that had been so entirely raucous sobered almost immediately at the readily apparent direness of the situation and most of the men rushed toward the door, whether to participate in the town's defense or go find their families. _Must be what Tauriel wanted to warn us about..._ H'anigi cursed at the lack of time as she rose from her seat, regretful at the notion of leaving her still half-full mug of ale behind – though she regretted obeying Thorin's order more, with orcs in town and no weapon in hand.

Among the advancing crowd, she saw Dwalin break through to her, "Make haste H'anigi!" he shouted over the dim, "We must head out, now!"

"Yeah, a moment if you may!" she whirled around to Charles who hasn't run off yet, "This merchant you know, does he sell weapons?"

"Some." the old man stuttered as he readied to leave with the rest, "Castoffs mostly."

"That will have to do. His name?"

"Sigismund. As I said, you can find him on the west side. Got a shop close to the barracks!"

"Thank you!" H'anigi nodded gratefully before she hurried to follow a clearly exasperated Dwalin, "Did you get that?"

"I did, lass. Good work." the dwarf gestured to the door where Balin stood in wait, his eyes sharpened at the prospect of combat, "Quicker we get those weapons, the better chance we stand to survive this, castoffs or not!"

 _OoOoO_

Legolas was disgusted to admit it, but the orc leadership in this assault had outwitted even him. At first and second look Lake-town was well-positioned for a defensive battle, out in a lake with only a couple of bridges connected to the mainland, both in relative proximity that led to either side of the lake. Narrow bridges that despite the lack of gates allowed a frontal assault to be easily held at bay. The guardsmen below his position protected themselves with tilted shields from which they frequently and hurriedly slipped out with bows held high to shoot at the two hundred or so orcs massing at the mouth of the western bridge where they hunkered down and rather than rush in tried to wear the defenders down with hails of arrows.

No sooner did he put an arrow through the skull of an especially ugly orc – his twelfth kill in this battle, with a smidgen of satisfaction to go with it – did a messenger run up to Captain Braga and shouted the words that the elf dreaded to hear.

While the brunt of the town's defenders were kept busy by what they thought to be all the attacking orcs, a smaller force had elsewhere managed to capture boats and barges that were still out on the lake, and commenced an assault on the town from several directions, most of which got in virtually unopposed. The orc leader correctly assumed the town did not have enough guardsmen to guard all the walls.

"Soury! Hemle!" Captain Braga shouted, "Take your men into the town, drive the orcs back!"

Legolas did not watch as the squads disengaged to follow the new orders, and decided with a snort that the greater mass of orcs was merely a distraction. The real battle would be fought in the streets themselves. "Tauriel, to me!" he cried out in sindarin while he ran to the end of the roof he had been perched upon and launched himself upon another, his steps so light that not even the most fragile parts of the dwelling's clumsy roof gave away.

To win the battle, all they needed was to slaughter the orcs within the walls. Something he intended to a bring a most swift resolution to.

 _OoOoO_

Bilbo felt like he had fallen from the tallest peak, for surely that was the only way such a a thunderous headache could come to be. He groaned in some agony as he woke from his enforced slumber and tried to take in the environment... that looked like the inside of a house.

"Easy there, Bilbo." Óin's gentle voice greeted him, "You've had a rough time of it."

"What's going on?" Bilbo stared at the dark sky beyond the window as distant screams came through, next to it stood Dori with a recognizable pickaxe while Thorin stood at the main entrance, H'anigi's axe in hand. "What's happening... where is...?"

"H'anigi and some of the others went out on an errand. They've not come back yet." he shook his head in an apologetic fashion, "As for what is happening... orcs are attacking, I've no idea where they came from."

"Orcs?" he asked, and almost subconsciously reached for the pocket that weighed most heavily on him. He remembered the attempt to destroy the ring, and was very saddened to know it had failed. That worry however was subordinated to the concern of those out in town without any weapons. Without realizing, he had gotten off the couch and made for the door, and had to be stopped by the shoulder as the meaningful Óin intercepted him.

The dwarf looked on him respectfully, "Your concern is admirable, but going out now will only get you killed..."

Bilbo stared at the door before he looked on around the dwelling, at the solemn but unarmed dwarves, and their host's frightened children. "Where is Bard?"

"Left to join the defense. Had a bow and full quiver in the attic ready. As for us... we can for now only wait."

 _OoOoO_

"His shop should be around here somewhere!" Balin said as they crossed into the west side of town, but with only a vague idea of what the barracks looked like. And there appeared to be none to ask its appearance of as all the people who previously flocked the streets were missing, most of them huddling in their homes no doubt. H'anigi watched the deceptively quiet environment warily as they plowed on through narrow streets and bridges with only a couple of close calls where they found small groups of orcs that all seem to be on the way south, toward the bridges Balin informed them along the way here. Unarmed as they currently are, avoidance was their only relevant option.

It took a far longer time than any of them liked to find their way, but finally things started to look up when three familiar shapes came from around a corner ahead. Kili with Fili and Nori smiled at the sight of them. "What a pleasant surprise, are you here looking for the same person we are?" Kili asked.

"Aye." Dwalin replied, "Sigismund. You know any better than we of where he lives?"

Nori confirmed with a nod, "Found a guy who was mighty helpful once we bought him a pint. Did not skimp on the details."

"Good, we got little more time to spare!" Balin nearly barked, "Lead on!"

Now a larger group, they hurried on with Kili showing the way until they came to a dwelling not far from a large structure that could be easily mistaken for a warehouse at a first glance. Dwalin took it from there and beat a fist on the door, "Oi, anyone at home?!" he called, "We were told to ask for a man named Sigismund."

Like it was a magic word, the door was shakily opened to reveal a rather gnarled face, "Whose asking?" 'Sigismund' demanded.

"Does it matter?" Dwalin growled, "Orcs are here in force, we need weapons!"

Sigismund looked like he was about to argue, but thought better of it. "Come in and fast, close the door behind you!"

And they all did. H'anigi was the last to follow suit and made doubly sure the door was well and shut behind her. The dwelling itself was simple like almost every other place in this settlement, but was warm at the very least as a flame crackled in the fireplace. It was not very roomy with all of them in, but sufficiently so.

"If you need something, you've come to the right place." the elderly merchant assured them as some semblance of tradesman-like mannerism replaced his weary countenance, "But for one old as I am, peddling my wares in such a cold weather does hurt on my weary bones."

"My sympathies." Balin nodded emphatically before he fished up his money pouch that held their funds for purchase of what they needed, "What we need the most right now are weapons, and a few other things if you have some available."

Sigismund smiled, "Come with me to the storage then, and we'll do business. Welcome to Sigismund's."

OoOoO

Legolas did not feel comfortable, and it had little to do with the guardman who just fell into the water after he was disemboweled by an orc's deftly delivered serrated scimitar. The battlefield was simply too narrow for his liking. No sooner had they moved out before they met the invaders at an avenue with slim walkways, alleys, a single bridge and a broad waterway.

It was not ideal.

He drew an arrow from his quiver and in a simple stab motion plunged it through the eye of the orc who just came to challenge him, drew it back to his bow, and shot it at the second orc beyond the one he just put down. He then drew Orcrist, the ancient elven blade he had confiscated from the dwarves, and expertly separated a third orc's head from its shoulders.

Battle raged on either side of the waterway, and both men and orcs plummeted into the water as simple attrition played its part. Villagers also decided to take part, but armed with tools that are far removed from weapons of any sort they were hard put to do any damage and got themselves injured more often than not. The only reason they did not fall, was because Tauriel elected to fight among them. Several orcs tumbled away, shot through the heads and guts as the female elf fought back with unbridled fury and discipline, her skill honed by centuries of training and combat. With her was a tall dark-haired man in a brown coat complete with a bow and full quiver of arrows who also with great expertise felled orcs wherever his sight fell. His eyes gleamed with intensity and resolve, his skill quite impressive.

Still, they needed to turn the battle around, and soon.

That was when a tall orc beckoned to him, its face ugly and squashed. Legolas sneered and let loose an arrow at the beast, only to see it effortlessly dodge and race at him. Another arrow was released in short order with a similar lack of result before he with the Orcrist met the orc's scimitar in a flurry of swift blows that sent neither back.

"I am Bolg!" the orc growled, "Son of Azog. You are not my prey, but you will do."

"Go back to the pits." Legolas hissed as he with skill and lack of hesitation exchanged rapid blows with the dangerous orc that had just revealed himself as the leader of this invasion. But every blow he made, the orc returned much to his surprise.

Bolg made a rush, swung the sword overhead as though to deliver a heavy blow, but as Legolas prepared to withstand it, it changed instantly into a thrust where the pommel hit Orcrist and for an instant beat it down before Bolg twisted the blade around and made another thrust that caught Legolas just barely in his cheek as he reflexively leaped away.

It was enough to draw blood, and Legolas was astounded. This was no ordinary orc. He fell back a couple of steps before he rebounded and drew on the fullest extent of his skill. Time seemed to stay still yet race as they dueled furiously while the greater battle raged around them.

 _OoOoO_

Sigismund proved to be every bit the reasonable trader, and it did not take long before the group of six dashed on their way back, loaded with enough weapons and what little supplies they could procure on their backs to equip the whole company – hefty enough a load that to find no orc to bar their way was a cause for great relief. Naturally though, the closer they drew to Bard's dwelling likewise the cacophony of life and death struggle crawled ever closer. It seemed all orcs who entered the village committed themselves in a single area.

"Up here!" Fili cried as they very nearly lost their way.

It did not take them long thankfully before Bard's dwelling came into view, untouched by the chaos that went on perhaps no more than a street away. "Spread out!" Balin told the rest before he ran up the steps but took caution not to barge through the door, instead he called out in a vague chant: "Far over a misty mountains cold. To dungeons deep and caverns cold. We must be away ere break of day. To seek the pale enchanted gold."

Thorin's voice could be heard next as the door was flung open, "Did you find something?" he asked tersely.

"Supplies and weapons both. Castoffs, but sturdy enough. I advice that we leave the town now while the orcs are busy."

"Is Azog among them?"

A brief silence followed, "... I don't know."

"Out then. All of you out."

Balin immediately came back down, followed by the rest of the dwarves with Bilbo furthest to the back as per usual. And while those before him received each their weapon he looked for the miqo'te who exchanged the somewhat crooked axe she received from Sigismund onto a slightly disgruntled Thorin for her own, plus the pickaxe Dori held onto for her.

"So you are leaving then?" Bard's son, Bain, asked from atop the stairs... his sisters lined up behind him.

"I'm afraid so." Óin was the one to answer, "With orcs here, we can no longer stay."

Bain nodded slowly, uncertain how to proceed, "Our dad's fighting out there. Help him if you see him, alright?"

"The orcs are between us and the town exit." the well-meaning Balin said and looked toward the south, "At the very least we'll have to carve our way through."

"Don't worry, kids." H'anigi smiled up at them in a surprisingly maternal manner, "He'll be fine."

While Bain flinched slightly at being called a kid, the daughters seemed at least somewhat mollified.

"Now get back inside. It's not safe out here."

Indeed, it seemed the fighting had begun to shift and grew closer to their position and the youngsters wisely took the miqo'te's words to heart in a hurry. She exchanged a few pointed looks with the others, but no one really put a word to their grim thoughts. They had no idea if Bard was still alive after all, considering how long the battle has gone on. Immediately though, a trio of orcs ambled into view, their weapons and faces bloodied.

"Baruk Khazâd!" Thorin bellowed a battle cry to throw the company into gear, "Khazâd ai-mênu!"

And the orcs, fear in their expressions, tried to wheel away as the reunited dwarves followed their leader in high spirits, eager to bloody the convenient targets in their fury. Only Bilbo and H'anigi found themselves momentarily left behind as the killing commenced, "What did he say?" the miqo'te asked curiously.

"I've no idea." the hobbit admitted, clueless, before the questions he wanted to ask of her returned to mind, "... H'anigi..."

"Hush." she gave him a meaningful look, a finger put to her lips, "I am sorry, but this is hardly the time." before she hefted her axe and sped after their bearded companions.

 _Always a later..._ Bilbo accepted the reminder of their need for haste and pulled out Sting from its holster, an instant spent to look on the bright blue glow it gave off at the proximity of orcs before he solemnly followed them away from Bard's dwelling and past the subsequent alley found themselves immediately in the heart of the battle as more than a dozen orcs came for them, from adjacent roads and rooftops alike, no doubt attracted to the cry Thorin put out.

One of the creatures came out of the water just between him and the rest, clearly a casualty of the fighting elsewhere as it lacked an arm. Nevertheless it eyed H'anigi's back and prepared to pounce. It was enough to make Bilbo see red, and he used the orc's ignorance of his presence to plunge Sting deep into the orc's chest from the side.

Startled and in agony, the orc thrashed for an instant before it fell limply, against Bilbo, and dropped him to the wooden ground. His discomfort though was a distant second to the utter panic he felt as by freak accident his fall sent the ring flying out of his pocket. His eyes followed as it hit a wall not far away and landed with a distinct thud that like in the smithy sounded far heavier than it truly was. And just to make it worse, another orc had come out of the water... and simply froze at the sight of the ring, its mouth agape in utter astonishment.

"Hey, what's going on there?" he heard H'anigi holler as she disengaged from the fight ahead, her axe soaked in newly spilled blood, and laid her eyes on the pinned hobbit, the ring, and the orc that looked from it and to her – obviously amidst an internal debate on whether to try and grab the ring before she could close the gap... until the miqo'te broke into a full head-on charge that ate up said distance fast enough that every argument but the sense to flee escaped the orc and it leaped back into the water before she reached it.

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi watched as the orc swam away and vanished underneath the walkway and adjacent house, and decided the danger to Bilbo had passed. "Need help with that?" she asked of the hobbit, a question that was first answered by his actions.

With a groan of effort, Bilbo shoved away the corpse that held him down and turned around on his belly to crawl on over to the nearby ring and put it back in his pocket like it was part of a card trick, his expression nearly one of near-manic relief mixed with trepidation. "I'm... I am fine..." he muttered as he stood, shaken. It really drove home the regret of not being able to get rid of the infernal item, but all they could do for now was follow the company. Dwalin shouted for them up ahead, all of the orcs within the area reduced to chopped meat where they lay and spilled unnervingly unnatural black blood into the wood and water. She remorsefully put a hand on Bilbo's shoulder and pulled him along.

 _OoOoO_

None among the men could guess why the orc numbers seemed to abruptly thin somewhat, but Tauriel with her keen sense of hearing knew exactly why as she heard the boom of a dwarven battle cry – a sign that the company's on the move, though later than she'd like. It had caused some of the orcs both within and out of sight to break away from the men they battled to converge elsewhere. It was nothing less than another confirmation.

Deftly she articulated a blade to uppercut an orc who had ambled too close for use of bow and cleaved its face in half and spared not even a look as the creature groaned and collapsed in a heap. Her attention more on the men around her, a bunch that are primarily fishermen and workers strong in limb, at least half the guardsmen sent this way slain by the orcs. Almost out of targets in this area, she argued if she should find Legolas and hope he did not hear Thorin's roar.

"Down!" the bowman who had boiled out of the crowd and impressed with his skill at arms and bravery drew an arrow from his half-empty quiver. Tauriel ducked just swiftly enough to see an orc blade pass above, just where her neck used to be. The orc did not get another chance before the bowman sent it into the water with an arrow lodged deep into its chest.

Tauriel gasped at how close she came to death, "My thanks."

"Pray don't thank me yet." the man who the others referred to as Bard said, "We still have orcs to put down."

"Not for much longer." she stated confidently.

Bard raised an inquisitive brow, "How do you know?"

"This attack was not launched on a whim. It came with a quarry in mind. Soon as it's gone they will surely depart."

"Quarry...?" the man's eyes seemed to glint with some sort of realization, "By quarry... do you mean...?"

Tauriel grimaced and cursed herself. Just because men live shorter lives does not mean they are lesser in mind. It was an easy thing to forget. And the instance of loosened tongue just had to happen while she spoke to exactly the wrong man to share the words with. She did not answer him, but he arrived at the answer just fine by himself.

"... The dwarves, are they truly bound for the Iron Hills?"

Tauriel became tight-lipped as his expression turned into one of incredulity and horror. It was not necessary to confirm the correctness of his moment of brilliance at this point and she simply turned and hurried to find Legolas, and kill every remaining orc she could find along the way. As she said; soon as the quarry is away, the orcs will surely retreat... But she would make sure not many remain of the creatures. Behind her, Bard put the final pieces in his mind into place, with the very last soon to take him elsewhere in a mood foul.

 _OoOoO_

"Durin's Beard! Have they all decided to pay us a visit?" Bofur quipped from the side as he drove a notched axe into another orc's shoulder and send its arm to bounce off the deck. Every inch of the way orcs had continued to pour out of the woodwork, and be added to the bloodied path of corpses in the company's wake. All the dwarves disliked the castaway weaponry, but took to the dispatch of fiends with great gusto regardless. Better than going unarmed.

"Shut it lad!" Dwalin cried as he with the new mace of his smashed in the skull of an orc that had tried to land on him from the roof of the dwelling they just entered the shadow of, and growled as more came out of the water, in various states of frostbite and injury, both violently cut down as Kili and Óin ran them through with their swords. "Less talk, more kill!"

H'anigi did object in the least as she stared in the face of a screaming orc who tried to drag her with it into the water, till a solid application of poll to forehead made it loose the grip on her jacket and plummet into the dark depths, no doubt fated to drown as it vanished below the surface by the weight of its armor. "I'm not that cheap, orc." she snarled and patted her bust where the creature had grabbed hold.

Luckily as they drew nearer to another battle that went on somewhere further head to the right, the number of encounters turned increasingly diffuse. No doubt they would soon have a clear path to the eastern bridge – unless it was also besieged – soon.

Soon as Fili felled the last of the present wave with a hammer blow to the face, they continued on their run through walkway after narrow walkway for a fair time before another but smaller wave managed to pile up enough to attack from behind... in a manner that was universally understood by those present as entirely predictable. Bombur and Dwalin took the brunt of it and swiped their maces along a great arc that crushed an orc against a wall while two others tumbled with bruised chests into the waterway and sank like twin stones. One orc managed somewhat to take advantage of the wide swings and used the big opening to close the distance enough to try and dig a serrated dagger into Dwalin's abdomen, only to find itself with a brand new vertical hole through its neck as Fili came to the assist and thrust his sword through – while the blade itself was rather dull, the point proved more than sharp enough for the task.

Further three then came up, cruelly confident in their ability. Dwalin was set to stomp on and block their maces with his own when the call of a horn boomed across the town and caused the orcs to falter and immediately withdraw, the fear of punishment for disobedience stronger than their desire to spill blood.

"They're pulling back?" Bombur vocalized confusedly.

"Conserving forces." Balin hollered his comment from the front, "That call was for a complete withdrawal."

"So the town won?" the miqo'te sighed her exultation, "What a relief."

Thorin growled, "To us it only means the road is clear. Hustle now before someone decide to close it."

 _OoOoO_

Bolg was in a foul mood, and every orc knew it. Soon as it became all too obvious that the battle was lost, he had disengaged from the elf he skillfully fought with a scoff and a snort and relegated a couple of others to keep him busy before he promptly strolled off at a brisk pace in an overly obvious display of dismissal and contempt and had the subordinate with the horn signal the retreat. He would have liked to add an elf's ear to his collection, but that it seemed would have to wait.

Regardless of preference, he still had the responsibility to lead.

Few returned to the boat that lay in wait for him, one of them who had apparently suffered from an extended bath in the cold lake. The subordinate looked up to their leader who barely appeared touched by his prolonged encounter, "Son of Azog," the lower orc stuttered, "I saw it, the Master's prize!"

That got his attention, "Speak."

"A ring like spoken of in the legends. I could feel the Master's glory!"

"Where is it then?" Bolg growled.

"With a lower creature. A halfling. It lay before me, vulnerable but not without allies. The feline was with him..."

Bolg did not see much of the tailed woman who back up in the mountain had tried to strike at his father, for which they and surprisingly the Master himself shared a measure of confusion and curiosity. The Master demanded her capture if possibility allowed so he may _question_ her personally. "And you chose to flee?" Bolg brought himself back on topic with a dangerous edge to his tone.

The subordinate nodded awkwardly in knowledge of the treacherous ground on which he tread. "To tell of it." he defended shakily, "I was the only survivor of that encounter, the only one to see it!"

Which was fair enough a justification, though he had a mind to kill the coward at a later time as this time was best spent on a quick retreat, and venture to rejoin his father who needed to know Thorin's company would soon be at the lonely mountain, together with the key to the Master's complete dominion over the whole of Middle-Earth.

 _OoOoO_

"Mellon!" Tauriel searched round where she last saw Legolas, and found him not too far away amidst a small pile of corpses – his gaze lowered firmly at the two most newly slain that lay still by his feet, disgust so strong in his posture and eyes that she momentarily recoiled, for it was something the mild-mannered male had never displayed before. Her instant of horror transmuted into compassion as she walked near in visible concern, "Legolas, are you hurt?"

"... Not bodily, though I cannot say the same for my pride." the Prince said with veiled bitterness, "I have not been so humiliated in my life."

"What happened?"

Legolas shook his head, and the woman could see a cut that ran down his cheek along with a couple of bruises. "Bolg, son of Azog." he muttered the name hated by all dwarves though not nearly as much as they hated the orc's father, "Challenged me, then left like I was not worth his time."

"Do not read too much into it." she told him, "He merely cowered."

The Prince contradicted her; "You weren't there, Tauriel. I could barely even lay a hand on him."

Tauriel blinked in surprise at the very possibility that the Prince had been bested by an orc in combat and found comprehension in the male's humiliation – the extent of it. The implication that Bolg decided the likes of Legolas was just a waste of his time and left in disappointment left a sour taste in her mouth. Given that, it made sense for him to be so furious. So she did not even try to console him on the duel at all and instead focused on what was most important, "Another chance may come. But for now be glad that we've won this battle."

After a moment of silence, he muttered his agreement, "For now, that will do."

That said, Tauriel knew he burned with the desire for a rematch and knew he would favor a larger excursion in the future to bring it about. While it was somewhat fortunate for the sake of future events, she at the moment did not find elation in it.

 _OoOoO_

Whether it was by a lack of caution or the simple shortage of manpower on short notice the only person present at the mouth of the east bridge was a terribly anxious toll man who warily eyed the company's approach without as much as a word, and seemed liable to simply drop his duty and go hide at the slightest sign of trouble. He cowered at the sight of weapons so recently stained in blood, and finally removed himself succinctly in a tremendous hurry when a man cried out from behind them.

"Halt!"

H'anigi cringed at the familiarity of the voice, along with the severe tone that it delivered the command with, and found herself in the midst of an eerily synchronized motion as the whole of the group half-turned to face the morose bargeman whose quiver was very nearly spent, and his clothes spotted with dark blood. He stared with an unreadable expression like it was the first time he truly saw them.

"Who are you who lead these people?!" Bard demanded, an arrow held to his bow, ready to shoot. It was such a sudden change of demeanor that several of them reacted to with nothing less than complete confusion while a few belatedly began to figure out the reason for this anger – being his dislike of the prophecy about the return of the King under the Mountain – but with zero comprehension as to how Bard found out about their intentions.

H'anigi squirmed uncomfortably, for she did have an inkling as to how the man found them out. She had yet to tell the others about the elves downtown, who Bard probably encountered during the battle and somehow learned from Tauriel as to what's going on. Whether she saw fit to reveal everything or was careful with her words only for him to put the clues together... H'anigi could only guess.

"Speak!" Bard demanded again, "Or I will shoot."

It took a moment of savoring the threat before Thorin broke out of the crowd and walked past her, followed very closely by Dwalin and Balin who grimly eyed the man and sized up the threat he represented. "I am Thorin II Oakenshield, Son of Thráin, Son of Thrór. No more, no less."

The bargeman's eyes widened slightly with increased morosity, "I hoped that I was just over thinking it, but... You truly do seek to fulfill the prophecy..."

"Of how you learned as to our purpose, I know not." Thorin, his fists clenched, glowered at the man like the held arrow could not harm him, "However no matter your protestation, one way or another we will have our home reclaimed."

"At no heed to the cost?!" Bard's voice was filled with venom, "My village has suffered for your arrival, and will suffer all the more if you disturb the dragon. You will abandon your mad quest and let the sleeping dragon lie!"

Thorin growled, "Nay, I will not."

"Then you leave me no choi-"

H'anigi did not even let him finish as she upended her axe and ran onward at full tilt, just fast enough that she passed Thorin quicker than his gaze could follow. Of however many arrows Bard used to have, only two remained to him, so the altercation he was about to provoke could only end in tragedy – unless an appropriate action was taken.

Swiftly, Bard shifted to turn his arrow on her and let go.

It was well-aimed, but she came on a little too low and the projectile wound up only cutting her left ear a little as it passed. With her practiced focus, she ignored the stab of pain and closed the distance before he could reach for the arrow that remained, and thrust the knob of her axe into his gut – an action rewarded by an explosive croak as all the air was knocked out of him. Bard, unable to recoup from this blow, let go of his bow and collapsed face-first against her shoulder. "I bloody know why you did this, but it was awfully stupid of you." H'anigi whispered sternly into his ear, "When you wake up, go back to your kids, they're worried sick about you!"

He tried to mutter a response, but fainted in the attempt. She doubted it was in any way congratulatory as she in a weary manner shoved him off and to the ground, with special care to break in two and discard the arrow that remained.

Thorin sighed from behind her, "Good work, H'anigi."

"What do we with him...?" Bilbo piped up, obviously uncomfortable with the manner of their parting.

"Leave him." the dwarf said in a way that clearly brooked no argument, "We have wasted enough of our time here. The lonely mountain awaits. Óin, stop her bleeding as we go."

 _Our last best hope..._ H'anigi thought, slightly morose as she spared the comatose male she saved from orphaning his kids before she left town with the others and tried not be amused by the idea of having her wounded left ear treated by one whose head barely reached her chest as she dipped her head in silent prayer, _Nymeia, please watch over us..._

* * *

 **Author notes:** Another chapter done. Next up we will look back onto Gandalf's continued quest.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: On the Precipice**

* * *

When Bard finally woke from a dream full of brimstone and fire, it was to find an ache that caused his gut to throb, a cracked ceiling over his head, and a hard cold bench under it. And by the looks of how little light crept through the nearby window he estimated the night was very nearly upon them. An observation into which the ugly-faced Pilt, the tollman of the eastern bridge, quickly intruded himself soon as the ache made him let out a belated groan that had waited overlong for him to get to it.

"Where am I?" Bard wheezed a grunt as he put a hand on where the cat woman had struck him, and winced at a shot of pain, "Ugh, lord above..."

"Not in the hereafter." the grouchy man told him, unflappable now that he was nowhere near danger, "You sure tried hard to get there in any case."

He narrowed his eyes, "Excuse me?"

Pilt snorted as he left Bard and sat at the nearby desk, "Foolish. You had only two arrows to your name when you went and threatened an armed party like that. Got a death wish, do you?"

"N-no... I..." Bard groused as he forced himself up, right through the throbbing agony, "Had to stop them... from going on a fool's errand."

"Well, congratulations you managed to stop them for a couple of moments quite splendidly. Judge's still out on whose errand's more foolish though. You're lucky they did not kill you like one would a mad dog after that woman put you out of it."

"You have no idea." he protested with a flicker of barely restrained anger, "They are heading up to the lonely mountain as we speak!"

Pilt raised a finger, "So long as they just pass the mountain by... Oh."

Bard gave him a pointed look.

"Hm, that's a wee bit of a problem."

"Most kingly an understatement." Bard growled as he pushed himself fully off the couch, "Have you heard anything of the elves who came here?"

"There were elves here today?"

A silence stretched for a moment between them. "Yes."

"Check by the town hall, if they haven't left already. They did help against the orcs, right?"

Bard nodded, "Aye, they did." as he strolled quickly to the door and looked on outside, "Thank you for the help."

"Leaving an unconscious man in the open tend to be bad for business." Pilt shrugged, "Didn't do it out of charity, you must know."

Guess that makes sense. "Nevertheless, I thank you." he offered and promptly left the toll house and made a run for the town hall, all the while reminded of the more salient points as he passed a few of the town's guardsmen – who simply sat around in exhaustion with distant looks in their eyes. Along the way he also met many villagers, everyone now out on the street to clean up and repair wherever needed. A few among them piled orc corpses onto barges to remove them onto the shores rather than foul the waters any further, while many more buried in sheets and took away bodies of villagers who fell.

Most painful was it to see those who mourned, having found their friends and families slain by the orcs. Worse still it would be for those who search for closure that will never come, their loved ones swallowed by the dark lake.

It made Bard all the angrier as he neared the town hall, hopeful that the target of his ire still remained.

 _OoOoO_

Tauriel looked on from where she stood in the far back of the town square and quietly marveled at how similarly chaotic the aftermath was compared to the abrupt battle that preceded it. Throngs of people milled and crowded back and forth between the town hall's very doorsteps and every other part of town affected by the orcs' intrusion. Shock and anger hung in the air like a festering wound. Tauriel told herself this battle was not her fault... for the orcs would likely have struck here sooner or later in their search for the dwarves.

It did not quite take.

More than a hundred people died, and twice that wounded – most of them common townsfolk. In a place like this, with a population of less than a thousand, such casualties meant the victory carried a bitter taste for its inhabitants.

At such a melancholic vista, she could not even offer a word of consolation. Even the disgusting greasy-haired Master of Lake-town appeared solemn though meticulously overdressed in his finest furs and a heavy gold necklace that signified the rank of his office. Rather than have the crowd fill the town hall he had elected to come out himself. He spoke to people, ordered them about, and clearly looked supremely uncomfortable about the effort he had to put in.

Being so preoccupied, the still-brooding Legolas was forced to exchange words of parting to the town's impossibly smarmy-looking Councilor instead before the eve of their departure – hardly an upgrade over the greasy slob. Alfrid as he presented himself practically showered the Prince with seemingly endless platitudes.

But the worst remained. Tauriel winced as the people on a bridge to the right practically hopped to let through a dark-clad man who went on to enter the town square like the thunder of a looming storm. His quiver was empty and the bow he previously carried was clearly absent. Bard earned the attention of more than a few, including a side-glance from the Master, as he fervently looked about like he had every intention to punch someone and needed just the right target.

A target she knew to be herself alone.

Fortunately he did not stay unattended for long as Bard from the midst of crowd was approached at full tilt by a trio of anxious youngsters – two of them clearly in tears. Tauriel assumed them to be his children, and received confirmation when he breathlessly addressed them, particularly the youngest girl who ran into his arms.

It was a distraction that provided Legolas with enough time to wrap things up on his end and return to her, "Come, mellon." he said onto her, "We depart now."

"Yes." Tauriel inclined her head and hopeful that the man hadn't seen her followed Legolas out of the town square, subtly eager to be away.

 _OoOoO_

When he arrived at the town square and started to sift through the crowds in his search for the she-elf, Bard's white-hot fury still burned strong if not even more so from the continuous menagerie of woe and suffering seen on the way. He acknowledged the need to warn the villagers of what is certain to come, but for the moment wanted no more than to expose the lie she perpetrated.

Yet his search for her quickly turned fruitless as he could not even find as much as a shade of her presence. An absence that frustrated the man to no end. Even now the lives of hundreds of people are at stake, and was unable to frame even one of the guilty parties. Impotently did he seethe over how powerless he felt, before someone cried out to him amidst the chaos.

"Dad!"

Bard whirled about in surprise just in time to see Tilda run into his arms, her eyes filled with tears, followed quickly by a similarly crying Sigrid and despondent Bain.

"Tilda, Sigrid, Bain." Bard stumbled over the names as he shook his head, "Why are you here?"

Bain fought back his own tears, the fear still raw, "You didn't come home when the battle ended."

"We were so worried!" Sigrid wept openly.

Tilda clutched him all the harder, "D-did," her voice trembled, "didn't them g-guests of ours f-find you? H'anigi promised t-to help you..."

Cold trepidation poured in as much as his frustration bled out as Bard looked on his children, only now able to fully appreciate the depth of the risk he had taken when he tried to stop the company. In so doing he had nearly orphaned his own. _I bloody know why you did this, but it was awfully stupid of you._ Bard heard the cat-woman's voice in his mind, the tone one laced in such fury that he blanched a the memory of it. _When you wake up, go back to your kids, they're worried sick about you!_

The trepidation turned to shame. It took a stranger to remind him of his responsibility.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..." Bard found himself fumble about for the words and fell painfully short, "I... h-had business to take care of. And... I still have something I must do..."

"D-dad?" Tilda shivered.

"I am sorry for my missteps, believe me." his heart bled for what he was about to do. Nothing could be done about the guilty, but he could still warn the people who still wallowed all around them, fully ignorant of the danger to come – like they did not have enough on their plate. "Forgive me... for I may cause further worry."

Sigrid and Bain looked on, alarmed, as their father pulled away from Tilda and sought for a nearby crate. Bard leaped onto it promptly, and drew fully the attention of several... including the Lake-town's Master who previously had previously only glanced at him but once in barely veiled frustration.

"Hear me, people of Lake-town! Hear me!" Bard called out before his more or less shocked children. A few men cheered, thinking there would be a speech, but whatever they expected, he could do nothing but disappoint them. "Hear me." he continued more subduedly as a semblance of quiet washed over the town square, "You expect reassurance, that our peril is at an end, that our loved ones died not in vain. I can however offer you none... for our tribulation has only just begun."

The only reason no outrage came was from how controlled yet sad his words were, resigned but not born from madness. Most of those familiar with him knew perfectly well he was not one to easily break under strain.

"People of Lake-town, the orcs that plagued us came for the dwarves I ferried into our fair town. I was led to believe their journey was for the Iron Hills, but their destination is far worse! I am speaking of the Lonely Mountain, the lair of Smaug!"

"That will be quite enough out of you!" the Master yelled from across the street, "Can you not see the people are in distress?"

"I am all too aware." Bard said, and managed to be quiet yet be heard by every person, "Yet it must be spoken. We must flee before the dwarves foolishly wake the terrible beast, or all will die!"

Fearful murmurs filled the plaza and people seemed more distraught than before, for perfectly understandable reasons. The Master however continued unimpeded, "Flee, and leave Lake-town with the looming winter hanging over us? Bargeman, if those dwarves are truly bound for his lair... would it not be with a plan?"

"How can there be a plan against the likes of such a beast?!"

"And I say onto you, why would they journey forth if there is no hope? In all likelihood they truly do know what they're doing. And if they succeed, would it not lead to a resurgence of Erebor?"

Bard saw through the Master's plan, but could do little but protest. A truth that was quite apparent to his horrified children, "It is foolishness. The armies of Dale and Erebor fell before the beast. What could worse than twenty people possibly do?"

"Obviously they know something you do not. Do not reach above your station, bargeman." the corpulent noble turned to the frightened people, "So do not fret, citizen! Whatever those dwarves seek, it will either not see the dragon disturbed or slay it outright. Would that not be a great boon, to see the greatness of Erebor restored? Think of all the trade to blossom again, all the riches that would come of it."

Obviously this got the people to talk amongst themselves, especially the elderly. No one could deny it would be great for them if the King under the Mountain restored his rule over the Lonely Mountain. The Master saw an opportunity and took it wholly, and now the people themselves pined for his every word.

In one stroke, he dispelled much of the new distress much to Bard's horror. Suddenly he was made out to be the raving madman.

"As for you, bargeman!" the greasy-haired man continued with a fat finger pointed over the crowd, "For fearmongering among other offenses, you will be confined till later notice."

And in that one stroke, two guardsmen came from behind and hauled Bard down from the crate. He tried to struggle, but his wrists were chained in short order. Bard wondered if people would intervene, but with his words made fully hollow none intervened. While none jeered at him, not one tried to help. Some murmured about too much stress, and the jail might help calm him down.

Defeated and unable to do anything else than wait for the encroaching doom, Bard just barely managed to get a glimpse of his children as they tried to push past a line of guardsmen to reach him. A glimpse long enough to tell them, gravely, "I'm sorry." before they took him away, and before long shut him away in a cell back at the barracks.

He barely even remembered the journey. Only Smaug's presence in the sky above the town could vindicate his words now. And that... was a hollow consolation at best.

 _OoOoO_

Even with the aid of transportation by Radagast's Rhosgobel Rabbit sled, it took some long days for them to finally arrive at the south of Mirkwood, where Dol Guldur lie amidst a rotten and cursed landscape. From there spiders and orcs alike sally forth to further taint and terrorize. But while a den of wretchedness, it was not a rally point. Most of the orcs in the region are holed up in their mountain stronghold at Mount Gundabad, and there awaited the call to march to war.

A call that would not come if he had anything to say of it.

Upon the very first stone of the bridge that led onto Dol Guldur, did Gandalf part from Radagast, with word for him to go and warn Lady Galadriel, and ventured forth. It carried a stench of vileness about it that repel even the most stouthearted, and of such evil that no man, elf, or dwarf could hope to adequately describe it.

"Wait Gandalf!" Radagast called, loudly – the current tension seeming halfway lost on him, "What if it's a trap?!"

Gandalf halted for just a moment of consideration before he halfway turned and said, "Turn around, and do not come back." in mild exasperation, and continued more quietly, more to himself; "It's undoubtedly a trap..." before he drew his sword and motioned onward, trespassing on the castle's concealment spell at a brisk pace.

After a near non-existent blur of transition, he was inside and at first found no trace of life but trees and stretches of shrubbery.

It provided him a boost of confidence. The spell of concealment alone told him the Enemy was not yet at full strength, and the general absence of troops in proximity of the spell lent additional credence. Make people believe this is just an abandoned ruin.

Still, grimly did he venture through the damaged halls and corridors in search for his wretched foe, with nary a presence of any other being. Gandalf frowned, and in the ancient elvish language of Quenya did he begin to mutter an incantation of demand.

"The evil that is hidden here... I command it come forth!"

Thunderously did his voice reverberate through the misbegotten place as he raised his staff, gaining in power.

"I command it reveal itself!"

Gandalf then thrust his staff upon the floor and let loose a wave of light that passed through rock and stone, through every nook and cranny. The shadows quaked and shuddered at its passing, and the spell that shrouded the place weakened in its foundations. Still no enemy came forth, but they surely could not very well ignore him for much longer lest they wished the spell wholly lifted. The ancient Wizard narrowed his eyes appraisingly and strode on, and continued to mutter and chant spell upon spell.

Determined to uproot the evil in this place, he diligently wrought and delved till the monotonous vista of ruination gave away for what passed for a dungeon, if the spiked cages suspended by chains linked to what remained of the ceiling are of any indication. Much unlike the rest of the place however, this section seemed to be inhabited.

Up ahead he could hear the growls of wargs, the black speech of orcs. Neither of which were the point of his little intrusion. The latter can at least with the right incentive supply him the answer he seek, of the Enemy's location.

Still, he quietly continued to chant in Quenya as he advanced to the source of the cacophony. For the spell of concealment remained in place however weakened. A sound precaution against the notion of ambush, but as he set the spell loose, a pale white orc appeared abruptly through the expanding wave of light and sent him back with the wave of its huge mace.

Gandalf, in his surprised, was flung to the floor... from where he stared as Azog the Defiler loomed over him with a throng of orc minions at its back, all of them armed with savage weaponry. "You have come too late, Wizard!" Azog growled confidently in the black speech, "It is done."

With a sneer, Azog hefted his mace and closed in to surely maim. Only to be repelled.

Even if caught off-guard, Gandalf was far from defenseless, and even further from every notion of weakness. Azog was a mighty leader of orcs, but he was still no more than an orc. He brought up his staff as he rose and quickly conjured a shield with which he shocked the orcs and made them stumble back. "Where is your master!" Gandalf demanded.

Azog only roared and tried to close in.

The Wizard thrust the orc back again, "Where is he?!"

Finally there was an answer as the pale orc hissed in reverence of its master; "He is everywhere... we are legion!" and gestured to the pits below, where many wargs and many more orcs are gathered. "It is over!" Azog continued ominously.

Having had enough of this particular lot, the next spell he cast showered the ledge in a burst of such light the orcs were momentarily blinded. Gandalf immediately used the reprieve and slipped away while Azog and its minions fumbled, but was forced by the blockade of orcs to take another route out.

"Run him down!"

Gandalf heard Azog's rough voice boom throughout the castle, and before long he was followed from close behind as a mess of warg riders emerged from the shadows and in reckless defiance of the castle's perilous state of disrepair charged recklessly, and with unnerving swiftness closed the gap. He had no way to outrun them, and could only look to his surroundings for a solution. A solution that provided itself as he exited at the base of a tower and found just beyond it a short bridge.

That it was good for people to cross for at least the next hundred years was no good to the wizard, who decided to shorten that time span considerably. He muttered a quick few words of power and struck his staff into the tower base before he hurried across, just in time for a large chunk to tear itself from the tower and smash the bridge asunder, along with a warg that just happened to appear at the time, followed then by several more as the beasts left the tower base only to find most of the bridge gone to their riders' dismay. None of them had a prayer to stop in time, so they plunged off the newly made edge and into the depths ready to embrace them.

Bereft of pursuers for now and unknowing of how long that would last, he made his hurried way along the slim path on which he heard nothing bar the distant occasional roar of Azog, until a dark voice steeped in wretchedness and cold reached out to him.

"There is no light, Wizard... that can defeat the darkness."

At the disembodied voice, Gandalf came to a full stop, and stared at a vista covered as though in oily smoke. He knew without being told, that he now stood before the Enemy he came here to find, and felt cold dread spread through his soul as the darkness given form spread out and enveloped the area, poised to close in on him with a thousand snake-like tendrils.

The wizard banished his fear and burned with conviction as he cast his light upon the shadowy tendrils and cast them back. But while he succeeded in fending off the first wave, only a momentary respite was given before the attack was renewed and redoubled upon. For seconds he was able to withstand the intangible assault, yet found himself being outmatched. He stubbornly recast the light, again and again, barely aware as the very environment was shattered and brought down by the ethereal clash.

All of his attention was focused on the bottomless pit of darkness that pushed him back step by step till exhaustion caught up and he could cast the light no more. While the Enemy was indeed far from the power it once wielded, it was far stronger than what the wizard could hope to reckon with. Far greater than he ever anticipated.

Impotently he held up his staff to in attempt to defend himself from what might follow as fire blossomed from the shadowy veil and manifested into the image of a tall creature clad in armor, only to watch his weapon be scorched and seared away to ashes within the blink of an eye. A loss he could scarcely reflect upon before he was thrown off the ground by an unseen force and thrust into the opposing wall where the shadows came to hold and pinned him in place, the sensation of it much like a thousand razor-sharp claws of ice digging into his skin.

Defiantly did Gandalf glare as the fiery being blackened and was clothed by a further outbursts of flame till what manifested was a vast lidless eye that seemed to stare into his very soul. "S-Sauron!" he growled from the pit of his throat in loathing before the Great Enemy descended upon him. He could barely cry out as tendrils of blackness shot into his eyes, and blocked everything but the pain.

What passed after was a blur of images within the dark recesses of his mind as errant memories shot past him. Of Elrond, of Lady Galadriel, of Gondor. He saw glimpses of the Shire, and the Prancing Pony in Bree. Each slipped away as though discarded, and more flooded in by the second. Not a single respite existed as he relived brief seconds of his life. Gandalf tried to repel the insidious will that continuously probed him, yet only exhausted himself to no discernible good.

After what felt like an eternity, an image finally solidified and gave him a measure of rest that was instantly replaced by troubled anxiety as he looked on the primary object of his attention at that point in time.

H'anigi Tohl.

Gandalf felt curiosity and rapt attention from Sauron as it watched the poorly veiled interrogation of a woman who was entirely not of this world. Interest flared from the Enemy, a measure of dark fascination at the knowledge gleamed.

When it finally concluded, Sauron laughed.

"Aetherytes..."

"An Arkenstone in every mountain..."

Sauron's thoughts boiled into Gandalf's mind even as it withdrew. A hungerful ambition now burned in the Dark Lord's spirit, one that desired to see this other world conquered, despoiled, and made into a nest in which to grow its legions. And who knows what kind of mysteries it might contain, powers that can be exploited, treasures to be used, creatures to enslave.

Regret and dismay poured through Gandalf's tortured mind as he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. He had come to remove a great evil, but all he managed to do... was further aid it. Despair tore thus at the depth of his own hubris before he passed out from sheer fatigue, and just as he did in waking found no solace in his dreams. He remembered why he was so reluctant to become Istari, back when he went by the name of Olórin.

 _OoOoO_

From early on in the morning and far into night did they march steadily up the mountain that loomed over them. Only a few hours were set aside for sleep, a lull in the almost tyrannical march regimen Thorin set up for them. With less than two weeks until Durin's day, they needed every last second to bridge the distance. A brutal measure that only allowed them to stop and eat whatever could not be consumed on the move... such as that one unlucky goat they encountered along the way about nine days into the march. While it was less arduous than the flight that led them to Beorn's house, this step of the journey was still a harsh one. Barely anyone spoke, there was no song or chant.

Yet no one complained, if only because the general absence of dwarven complaint compelled the only two non-dwarves in the company to follow suit. Nothing could quite hinder the air of restlessness though as every day tolled by until it hit its peak upon the morning of Durin's Day on the eleventh day of their march.

"Quickly now, make haste!" Thorin had urgently called when they set out again, "Not much time remain."

Several hours worth of brisk walk across the increasingly rocky landscape soon passed before H'anigi felt compelled to ask a question as she fell in line with Balin, "So let me get this straight. We are supposed to find a door that can only be seen in the last light on this day."

"Aye, but fret not." replied the wizened dwarf wearily, uncomfortable to consider the subject, "While we are unaware of its precise location, we know it to be on the mountain's western side. If we still can not find it... our quest will surely be at an end, along with every hope of reclaiming Erebor."

And if the quest ended like that, she was stuck here for possibly the rest of her life. H'anigi shuddered in fear for that, "Then we better find it."

Balin nodded. He agreed, but said nothing.

"What's that place?" Bilbo's voice rang up ahead, where he and several among the company had brought themselves to a collective halt and lined up to see the sight. Curious for what they saw, H'anigi climbed up to them and looked over a vista complete with an old city of rock and stone that was draped across hill upon hill. A most sober sight.

"It was," Balin joined them, "once known as the city of Dale. Now... it's just a ruin. The desolation of Smaug."

Thorin's lip curled, impatiently, "The sun will soon reach midday. We must find the hidden door into the mountain before it sets... This way." and turned away.

"Wait." the hobbit cried, "Is this the overlook?"

Considering all that happened since she joined them, the miqo'te for a short moment wondered in lack of comprehension of where Bilbo wanted to go with that specific line of thought before it occurred to her, "You mean where Gandalf was supposed to be waiting for us?"

Bilbo nodded quickly, "Yeah, that. We shouldn't approach the mountain withou-"

"Do you see him?" Thorin grunted and waved to their surroundings, "We have no time to wait upon the Wizard. We're on our own." he stated with strong finality and looked on the rest, "Come!"

"I really," he stammered as the company followed Thorin down a path on the side, intent on their approach, "I, we, really should wait for him."

"Get a move on, Bilbo." H'anigi patted him hurriedly on the back to get him in motion, "Thorin may be harsh sometimes, but he's right. We really have no more time to wait... If Gandalf's on his way, he will have to catch up."

While reluctant to advance without the wizard, the assigned burglar grit his teeth and fell in with them on the path that led them into the ruined streets of Dale, seemingly being the most direct route to Erebor itself. If nothing else it broke up the tedium of endless empty landscape somewhat, and while scarred by battle damage and almost two hundred years of wear and tear, it was remarkably wholesome. Faded though the buildings may be, they painted a picture of what was once a beautiful city. The only downsides being the cold... and the present only – relatively speaking – welcome place for potential settlers being Smaug's belly.

And eventually, she just had to ask the question she certainly felt in need for answer to; "In the interest of proper health, did this town have some bath house or anything like that?"

"Right over yonder." Balin pointed disinterestedly sideways.

Unfortunately, said structure had caved in at some point, much to the miqo'te's dismay. "What, you want to clean up?" Fili chuckled.

"Of course I do..." H'anigi replied in faint frustration with a palm unhappily applied to forehead, "I don't even want to recall of how long I've gone on without a right and proper bath. Had no chance to do it back in Lake-town, and the river's too cold for anything but a quick wash."

She continued, "And I don't even want to begin to wonder how long it's been for all of you!"

In reaction, Oin and Bilbo sniffed at their clothes and winced. "Hurrh, point taken." the latter shuddered his concession.

"Let's worry about that _after_ we get the job done!" Dwalin who did almost seem exactly the type to avoid baths altogether if he could help it growled.

Among the others there came a few, "Hear hear!" of agreements.

H'anigi snorted, "Men..." before the distraction gave way for such a cold anxiety in the pit of her gut that she gave a mental thanks to the numerous distractions that waylaid it if only for a little while. The relief however provided little solace as she looked toward the mountain.

 _OoOoO_

Bilbo wiped sweat off his brow as he momentarily paused, far ahead of the others after hours of so far fruitless search along the Lonely Mountain's western arm in spite of his previous reservation about continuation without Gandalf's presence. A bout of self-examination revealed it was fear, selfish fear, that made him want to have all the company stay at the overlook and wait for the wizard rather than move on without him, however bad the time constraints.

It had to do with the warning Gandalf gave before he left them at the edge of Mirkwood. That everyone turned silent as they crossed the final stretch with barely any word shared amongst them only helped ramp up his fear.

But when he was about to share his concern with the miqo'te who has been really supportive with him, those reservations were blown away. Not because of anything she said, but of her poise. The brave and confident woman had turned a bundle of nervous energy, her gaze singularly focused on the mountain as if in attempt to gleam from it every secret. Whether the door could be found in time, it would make or break the journey. If it failed, he could return to the Shire, and the dwarves while disappointed could return to where they originally journeyed from. She on the other hand had nowhere to go.

For her, this was a matter of life and death.

So he made his decision to shove away those concerns of his and applied every shred of focus on the task at hand. When Thorin called for them to spread out, Bilbo did his part with such great gusto some of the others commented on it.

Thorin's voice pierced the air from far away, "Have you found anything?!"

"Nothing yet!" Dwalin cried out in return.

What the dwarf leader mumbled next, Bilbo did not hear as he once again plunged forward... and to his mild surprise found past the next rock face a massive stone statue of a dwarf armed for war. For a moment he simply stared at the unexpected decoration till his gaze settled on the side of it closest to him where an eccentric zigzag pattern that ran up a portion of the statue's height was situated, and noticed the steps chiseled into the pattern. It was a staircase, or he was a fool.

Bilbo immediately turned and yelled, the loudest he could; "Over here!"

If one pointed out there being something about those words magical in nature, the hobbit was inclined to believe it as even the most distant member of the company snapped about and hurried hopefully in his direction. H'anigi was the third closest to his position after Bombur and Bofur, but as the better and more natural sprinter both of the dwarves were quickly overtaken by her.

She screeched to a halt almost right on top of him, "Did you find it?!"

"I did," Bilbo nodded confirmingly and pointed to the staircase, "See there. What else could it be?"

"You have keen eyes, Mr. Baggins..." wheezed gladly an out of breath Thorin who despite being the seventh most distant managed to race past the closer compatriots in short order. Almost just as distant yet quick to arrive was Balin, who raised a disbelieving eyebrow at Bombur and Bofur as they belatedly arrived, with the rest close behind.

The hobbit scratched the back of his head, flattered, "I was hoping to find a hint. Turns out your forebears left an... if I may say so... overly obvious one."

"It matters none!" the dwarf leader dismissed and made a sweeping gesture that landed promptly on Bilbo's shoulder as he mustered on toward the staircase, "Let us now take our place! Mr. Baggins, lead on, for you have surely earned the honor!"

An honor to which Bilbo did little more than say, "Got it." and nod his assent to as he matched Thorin's pace and began to scale the staircase that now just asserted itself as further steep than he understood from a distance, a great deal more so than was within a poor hobbit's comfort zone. The general lack of fence also helped little to none. Alas, scale it he did, the whole awkward thing. He crossed the first few steps and then had to turn fully around to climb and get up on the next set of steps, a process that repeated several times before it gave away in favor of the giant statue's axe haft. Even less an appreciable path was what followed, until finally he arrived at the chiseled dwarf's shoulder and came to look upon a rock face with a fair sized area at the foot of it, large enough for a group twice their number and then some.

Here he stepped aside and muttered his gladness for that little foul bit to be over. It was far better an experience than the surprise encounter with the rock giants back in the Misty Mountains, but was regardless one he cared little of to repeat.

Much more at ease were the dwarves as they trundled past him in a tight procession and gazed upon the rock face like they've never seen anything more glorious in a long time. "This must be it, the hidden door!" Thorin exclaimed as he near-jumped ahead of the rest to examine the wall more closely before he slowly faced them again, "And all those who doubted us," and continued triumphantly as he from his pocket brought up the key for all to see, "will rue this day!"

Greatly cheered, the dwarves hollered and whooped their approval. It was like their quest was fulfilled already if not for the next step, to which Dwalin noted as he too neared the wall and took a close look, "And a key, it means that somewhere... there's a keyhole..."

"And it shall be revealed when the last light," Thorin affirmed as he gazed on the sun, already dangerously low on the horizon, "of Durin's day, shines upon the keyhole."

"We should not wait." Dwalin growled as he hammered a fist on the wall, "Break it down... H'anigi, lend me your pickaxe!"

"Do not even bother." his brother Balin rolled his eyes, "Doors like these are shielded by ancient magic and can't be broken down."

"Unless hit by stronger magic, but that's no more than idle speculation on my end." H'anigi had hesitated to hand her pickaxe over and was relieved for the old dwarf's interjection, "Wouldn't a determined attempt to break the stone wake the dragon anyway?"

"At this distance, maybe not. Still, that is a gamble I'd rather not see attempted."

 _OoOoO_

Whether that was a possibility, no one were happy to surrender themselves to a celestial event that might not possibly happen. It opened the possibility of inevitable disappointment far too easily. And so they uneasily waited as the sun dipped toward the horizon a little too quickly over the next few hours for anyone's liking. H'anigi grew increasingly worried and restless though she anchored herself on the ground, an effort that took all of her strength. The temptation to simply try and break the door in spite of her earlier reluctance – a dragon's attention seeming more welcome than the prospect of being barred.

Thorin especially grew distressed as the very last of the sun threatened to vanish, "No!" and ran to the door and looked on it in borderline desperation before he with shaky hands brought up the map and read it, "The last light of Durin's day... will shine upon the keyhole. What have we missed?"

For a moment of utter silence where the sunlight almost wholly slipped away, Thorin stood there, and repeated hollowy, "What have we missed?!"

All of the others were frozen in place, unable to bring themselves to answer. No one knew, and even Bilbo simply stared into space in baffled incomprehension. H'anigi felt a lump form in her throat, one she desperately attempted to swallow as her fragile hopes were crushed.

The old dwarf Balin did not hold back as he grimly shook his head, "We've lost the li-"

"No, no, there must be something!" the miqo'te found herself against all odds interrupt, bitterly unwilling to accept this outcome, "What if you've misinterpreted the message?"

 _I'll be damned if I let it end this way!_

Fili pondered this eagerly, "Maybe she's right."

"Wouldn't hurt." Oin agreed.

"And where do we even start?" Bombur hummed from the very back, "It ain't like we got much to consider."

She raised an inquisitive finger, "How about you explain the whole thing about Durin's day?"

"It's the first day of our New Year," Balin replied to that glumly. having lost hope already, at this point he only humored her request, "where the last moon of autumn and the sun are in the sky together."

"Why of course!" suddenly did Bilbo shout, his arms flung wide, "If sunset was what revealed the keyhole, why would it only be revealed once a year?"

"I do not understand." Thorin stared at them incredulously with desperate hope in his eyes, "Explain!"

"What we are waiting for was not for the sun to set!" the hobbit continued, on a roll now, "Durin's day is the time of the year when the moon shines the brightest... and the only time it's aligned, in position, to shine onto the door!"

"And that means," haltingly did H'anigi continue the line of thought, "the last light of Durin's day we're waiting for is in fact moonlight..."

All of the rest held their collective breath as this struck home and it occurred to them that the nascent night had slowly begun to turn vaguely alight. As one they looked to the sky and saw the moon emerged as though summoned from a thick cluster of dark clouds to shine its gentle light upon the land, yet strongly like it was the beacon of hope itself. In awe of this display, Bifur whispered in the dwarven tongue. H'anigi had no idea what he said, but it sounded like a prayer.

The moon's glow strengthened as it slid into full view, and bathed the area in its glory. Such in magnificence that any Keepers of the Moon would have been inspired to likewise sing prayers of adulation to their goddess, Menphina the Lover.

Its culmination came when Balin looked away from the spectacle and gasped. There in the rock face, a shape had come to be that flaked away the shadow from a small hole. A sound followed by Thorin's own as he reacted to the old dwarf's exclamation of surprise.

"Is that... the keyhole?" Bilbo whispered in wonder.

And Thorin with no further delay brought himself to the hole and in a motion devoid of flair pushed in the key. Once it could go no further, he turned it around till the now stunned silence was interrupted by a distinct click. Amazed and relieved beyond words, Thorin next put his shoulder to the rock and pushed hard... until it gave away, and the door opened with barely a creak of stone.

He stared into the depths below, momentarily unable to believe their misfortune had turned around so completely. "Erebor..." Thorin after a long moment breathed as he slowly paced into the corridor and ran his hand along the finely chiseled wall.

"Thorin." Balin choked out as he too stared into the dark, and looked older than ever before. Disappointment had been too old a companion for him. He now saw hope seemed well within reach, and feared for its loss. His brother Dwalin alongside Thorin applied their hands onto the old dwarf's shoulders comfortingly before their leader ventured into the corridor.

"I know these walls." whispered Thorin as he ran his palm across smooth stone, "These halls of stone. Do you remember, Balin? A chamber filled with golden light?"

And as Balin followed, he said; "I remember."

No sooner did he before several of the other dwarves entered the door for a look around, their eyes filled with longing, and reverence abundant in every footstep. Of them, Nori was the first to look up on the ceiling and found a carved image, along with a set of engraved writing.

Glóin who followed Nori's gaze recited quietly as he read; "Herein lies the Seventh Kingdom of Durin's Folk. May the heart of the mountain unite all dwarves in defense of this home."

Balin nodded informatively at what the image illustrated, "The throne of the King."

"And what's that above it?" Bilbo who had finally invited himself in to look on what so transfixed the dwarves asked.

"The Arkenstone."

H'anigi only entered belatedly as that was said, and found the corridor for its generous space already quite cramped, yet had no attention for anything but the downward passage as it faded into the dark far distance and a sensation played tantalizingly with her senses. "What do you sense?" Thorin asked as his attention drifted to her and was alarmed by the distant look in her eyes.

"Aether." she whispered, and instantly stilled the relatively excited crowd, "The whole mountain is saturated with it..."

Dwalin growled, "Like in Mirkwood?"

"I'm not sure. It feels... stagnant somehow." she shook her head, "But... this feeling... I am given to understand it's everywhere in there."

Thorin nodded grimly, "Understood, but the task ahead remain unchanged."

"And what's that?" Bilbo piped up in curiosity.

"The reason you're here."

H'anigi blinked out of her momentary trance at that and realized now as all the dwarves looked on the hobbit expectantly, of what was meant. "Alone?" she asked.

Balin shook his head, "I intend to follow a distance, but not enter Erebor proper. Smaug knows well the smell of dwarves, but knows naught of hobbits."

"Neither does he know of miqo'te."

"You intend to join him?"

"I'll be closer at hand at the very least." she nodded with a little smile, "Don't know what good it will do for reassurance, but it's at least something."

Bilbo by that time recovered from his fear, and took a deep breath as he looked back up at her, "I can handle it, given a little time and quiet."

"I am aware." H'anigi applied her hands to her hips and inclined slightly toward the diminutive male, "But I am coming with, end of story."

"Okay." he conceded, "Just stay back, if you please."

"Now if you are done, we can proceed." Balin now interjected, seeming quite amused and strangely reassured, "Let us not waste this chance. It may very well be our only one."

So much for confidence. The three exchanged a nod before they with whispers of good luck and health at their backs ventured down the passage for where it ends: Into the dragon's own improvised bedroom, covered from wall to wall in swathes of gold, unaware that somewhere further within, a presence woke with notice and grew intent.

* * *

 **Author notes:** Finally. It took longer than I'd like, but after a project that took a fair bit of my time it took a time to properly formulate the transition here and there. But, here it is. That said, Sauron are now aware of the aetherytes and will surely search for them and soon. It won't affect the story on the short term, but on the long term it most certainly will! But for now we will move into Erebor, and therein find quite a bit of action.

As for answer to comments:

exillion: Most certainly I find there to be merit in your suggestion, but got a few private reservations about posting in a forum.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: Lair of the Ancient**

* * *

"So, how large is this Arkenstone?"

"It is a little round piece of crystal. You will see no difficulty in its transportation. Finding it will be the hard part."

Bilbo wanted no more than to fill the ominous silence that had embraced them as they traversed into the bowels of the mountain, and received his reply from a more than wary Balin who had wordlessly but visibly counted their steps as though to properly gauge their distance. Probably so he would not stray a step closer than was probably wise and potentially be noticed by the slumbering beast.

"In truth, lad..." Balin sighed, "I do not know... what you will find down there."

On that, H'anigi went and remarked dryly, "Beside an underground kingdom, lots of gold, and a sleeping dragon?"

He stroked his beard, "Right. My point is, you need not go if you don't want to. There is no dishonor in turning back."

"No, Balin..." Bilbo groaned exasperatedly, "Promises aside this must be done. Or at the very least... I'm going to give it my best shot."

Balin wheezed a laugh, "It never ceases to amaze me."

"What's that?"

"The courage of Hobbits." he continued and they shared a smile. "Well then, go on you two... with as much luck as you can muster. I for one can go no further."

Bilbo hummed, "Right." as they left the aging dwarf behind and progressed once more in steep silence. It did not take long before they could see no more of Balin in this dark.

A hiss suddenly left H'anigi's lips, "It's growing hotter..." in curt but uneasy observation.

That was odd, for he noticed no increase in heat. But rather than ask about what was up with that, he concluded she was simply more sensitive to the change of temperature and left it at that, "We must be close."

Which did in fact seem to be the case as the passage slowly grew more crisp and ornate until it improved no more and instead supplied them a corner. What lay beyond was a grand vista made of an elaborate hall massive beyond belief. Bilbo never quite grasped to what extent dwarves could shape their dwellings of stone, but this view blew from his mind every misconception he had.

Bilbo paced slowly into the open and gazed on the massive stretch of empty space, before his eyes fell to the mountains of gold. Momentarily he was struck by a gold-fever as he greedily took in the sight, dumbstruck at how rich the King under the Mountain was. "Hello..." he breathed in astonishment.

And across of it all, he saw no sign of Smaug, "It looks like no one's home."

H'anigi – who he was surprised to find was still with him – wanted none of that and sternly snapped a hushed, "We don't know if that's the truth of it..." as she gazed into the distance, "Do not for a moment assume he's not there."

"U-understood, I'm sorry..." Bilbo held his hands up and apologized, "I'll be careful."

"You had better." the busty marauder's voice softened, "I would rather you not lose your life to some foolish stray notion of assumed safety."

"I won't." he reassured, "But H'anigi... should you not return to the passage?"

"... I intend to." she replied tersely, impatience etched in her tone as she rubbed her temples, "Just tell me, do you by chance see a... ghostly rope in front of you?"

"N-no?" Bilbo was alarmed as he thought of what the miqo'te mentioned about the air growing hotter, and what happened to them back in Mirkwood, "Did you not say the aether here is stagnant... or inert?"

"I did." she confirmed and blinked dazedly, her eyes strangely distant, "But it seems it's not entirely so... Something out there's targeting me."

The implications of that did not at all sit right with the hobbit who immediately questioned; "Are you going to be alright?"

"It's not too bad. I probably just need to go sit down and... center myself some."

"Go then, back to the passage and stay till I return." Bilbo told her sternly, "Shoo!"

"If you promise to be careful." H'anigi chuckled softly, though she nevertheless did turn tail and paced to whence they came.

Bilbo rolled his eyes, "I promise." and waited for her to vanish round the corner before he moved down the closest flight of stairs, toward the carpet of gold.

A little bit flustered, he adjusted his coat in attempt to keep himself cool and continued his slow descent to the golden landscape where his first foray onto it resulted in a brief scare as he applied his weight from solid rock to the gold itself and felt it shift under his feet.

It almost made him jump back, at how the clink of gold thundered through the silence. Bilbo stood still for what felt like an eternity before relief asserted itself. He wiped the sweat built up on his brow and began with a sense of forced ease to sift through the riches, among which he found numerous crystals – none of which resembled what he determinedly sought.

"Arkenstone..." Bilbo whispered as he tread across a further length the treacherous ground, "Arkenstone..." and realized the enormity of his task as he looked from atop a nearby hill a chamber seemingly without end, and a carpet of treasure that stretched even further.

How was he supposed to find the Arkenstone within any reasonable time frame?

Bilbo shook his head at the futility of such complaint, and continued on the difficult search. Frustration did however eventually leave its mark with the passing of time when finally he tore a golden bowl from the bottom of a pile and watched as his rash action resulted in a little landslide... that to his horror exposed a stretch of scaled flesh larger than himself that belonged to an enormity who required no introduction.

What had appeared to him was Smaug's closed eye, followed by the snout further away as the shift in its extravagant bed caused it to sharply snort.

Alarmed, he pulled back and hid himself behind the nearest pillar, from where he listened numbly as more of the dragon was unearthed. Bilbo looked on to the other side as the tail surfaced and coursed through the gold like an oversized serpent. The poor hobbit stared at length before he returned his gaze to the head and back again and attempted to gauge the dragon's size from what he could see, and measured himself up against the enormous creature.

It seemed nonsensical an action, but it had an undeniably calming effect on him in a way that helped the Tookish side of him bring itself to the fore. Bilbo evaluated his options thus with a clear mind... though it took no more than an instant before it was choked with ire.

Naturally, much to his chagrin, the first option that came to mind was to put on the accursed ring still snug in his pocket.

 _No, not yet..._ Bilbo shook his head in the rejection at the thought of it.

Instead he tried to simply walk away as softly as possible in an attempt to disturb the treasure no more. Hopefully once he was away, the dragon would simply shrug off what happened to that little portion of its impromptu bed sheet and fall still again.

But he had no such luck, and managed no more than a couple of scarce steps before Smaug further stirred and caused a large stretch of gold coins to noisily recede. Bilbo lowered himself onto a knee and stared up at Smaug out the corner of his eyes till the dragon once more was still and he attempted a further few steps to build distance. Only to see Smaug's eyelids start to budge.

Having removed himself from the pillar and about to be caught in the open, Bilbo did the only thing that immediately occurred to him and in a single bound fell behind a protruding dune of coins, where he lay in breathless silence as Smaug scrutinized the area. Any hope to remain undiscovered was duly crushed though as the dragon started to rise from his coat of treasure in earnest. It would seem Smaug was not about to leave things to chance.

Bilbo was forced to confront the fact that he had no choice but to rely on his first option to get out of this. So it was with hearty disgust that he fished out the ring and glowered at it in both fear and loathing before he at last put it on and immediately embraced by a more shadowed world cautiously lifted himself back on his feet – ready to make a run for it even as he craned his neck to look wholly on what he had disturbed.

Smaug had by then already unearthed much of his gigantic frame and now loomed over the comparatively tiny hobbit as he sniffed exploratorily at the air.

"Well..." Smaug boomed with an odd sort of calm as he came about and leaned close to where Bilbo stood and sniffed again, "Thief... I can smell you."

Smaug leaned close, "I hear your breath." but instead of lashing out he strode past, his colossal frame such that it took many seconds for its whole length to pass him, "I feel your... air. Where are you?"

Reminded from what old tales said of dragons, of their sharp sense of smell, Bilbo sincerely wished he wholly supported H'anigi on the issue of bathing as he found that while the ring shrouded him from Smaug's relentless gaze, it offered no defense against his disturbingly keen snout. The only apparent reason Smaug had yet to douse him in flame was mild intrigue with the little mystery his invisibility provided.

"Where are you?" Smaug leaned close again, his patience about to eb.

Against this, what little Tookish bravery held him in place failed him. Bilbo turned and dashed down the hillside in a wild attempt to escape, and Smaug, who could easily see a plethora of coins being trodden down and kicked aside even if he could not see the hobbit himself, sneered at the effort and swiftly pursued.

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi had hoped that during the time spent sitting in the passage not far from where it ended that she could shed a bit more light on the spell she had been afflicted with through a bit of meditative contemplation, but was only reminded of just how truly little she actually knew about magic. All she knew was that in terms of complexity it put what haunted the path in Mirkwood to shame.

It had caught her flat-footed so completely she had no idea when it was first applied. Only that it slowly activated moments after they left Balin and made her feel feverish. At first it was unclear, but now whenever she closed her eyes... the aether that hung in the air contracted to produce what passed for a string that stretched erratically into the distance.

A path to follow it would seem.

What exactly it lead to she had not even the foggiest notion of, only that she was apparently the only one to suffer this spell for whatever reason.

"As if I don't have enough things to worry about..." H'anigi leaned on the wall and groaned at the trouble of it, before yet another reason to worry invited itself as a terrible cacophony exploded from the chamber beyond.

No one needed say what it entailed.

H'anigi got back on her feet in an instant, "Don't tell me... Bilbo?!" and instantly regretted the speedy motion in spite of its purity of purpose. Just one blink of the eyes and she was forced to fight back a wave of disorientation as the spell imposed itself on her once again.

It was bad enough that she dizzily fell onto her knees and had to use the wall for support. "Not now..." H'anigi hissed, furious at the weakness as the vision of hers positively swam. Forcefully she focused and managed belatedly to return a semblance of normalcy to her senses, "Twelve help me..."

By which time the chamber had fallen quiet again.

"No!" the miqo'te whispered despondently as she crawled to the chamber entrance and looked out across the expanse, where she found a shadowed shape greater than any creature she had ever seen. Terrible enough in scope that it froze her in a fit of primal fear before she willed it away in her attempt to gleam if her friend was still alive out there.

A confirmation given by Smaug of all things as he rumbled a surprisingly jovial "Oh, don't be shy." and turned his long head and longer neck to peer at something at the foot of a pillar, "Step into the light."

"There is something about you..." Smaug continued in a curious tone, complete with a speculative narrowing of the eyes as he leaned closer to where he looked as though fixated, "Something you carry. Something made of gold, but far more precious!"

 _It's the ring... isn't it?_ H'anigi resisted the urge to palm her face, and watched as though petrified as Bilbo suddenly flashed into view, an agonized expression on his face as he removed the ring from his finger. _Did... Smaug just cast some sort of spell?_

Smaug chortled in dry amusement, "There you are, thief in the shadows."

"I did not come to steal from you O Smaug the unassessably wealthy." Bilbo made his squeak of a reply, the hobbit's voice carried by the vast emptiness of the chamber, "I merely wished to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you are as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them..."

Under the circumstances H'anigi supposed it was understandable why one would resort to simple flattery, but had doubts it would actually have any effect here... until Smaug proved that wrong when he pulled back from the hobbit and positively pranced into the open where he turned his colossal frame with great flourish.

The dragon veritably preened himself and in startling glee boomed, "And do you now?!"

"Truly," Bilbo said so breathlessly that his voice was barely carried, "The tales and songs fall utterly short of your enormity, O Smaug the stupendous."

"Do you think flattery will keep you alive?" Smaug asked, though he did seem to enjoy the flattery, and again edged closer to the little hobbit.

Bilbo shook his head quickly, "No, no."

"No indeed." the dragon verbally nodded, "You seem familiar with my name. But I do not remember smelling your kind before. Who are you and where do you come from, may I ask?"

"... I come from under the hill." he stuttered.

"Under hill?" it asked with a smidgen of interest.

"And under hills and over hills my path has led. And through the air, I am he who walks unseen."

"So I can well believe." said the dragon, "What else do you claim to be?"

"I am the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number."

"Lovely titles!" Smaug brought himself so close to the hobbit that surely the jaws and snout must be the only things Bilbo could see, "But lucky numbers don't always come off. Now go on."

"I," Bilbo struggled momentarily to do so, "am also friend of one who came from a different world."

 _Guess it had to come up eventually._

Smaug snorted at that, but nevertheless queried, "Different world? How curious."

"Indeed, and she regaled me about tales of her world."

"Such as?"

"That of a realm I estimate you would surely find most favorable; the dragon kingdom of Dravania."

Smaug's eyes and nostrils flared as he took this in, "How very interesting. And what about your dwarf friends? Where are they hiding?"

"Dw-Dwarves?" Bilbo asked, sounding puzzled, "No, no, no. No dwarves here. You must be mistaken."

 _Bad move..._

"Oh I don't think so, luck wearer." Smaug's nostrils flared again, this time in affront, "They sent you in here to do the dirty work while they skulk outside."

 _He's not exactly wrong._

"Truly, you are mistaken," Bilbo denied with a simple shake of his head, "O Smaug, the chiefest and greatest of calamities."

 _Don't fan the flames Bilbo, please._

Smaug growled, clearly agitated as he went on to throw its formidable weight around, "You have nice manners for a thief and a liar! I know the smell and taste of dwarves, no better!"

"It is the gold." he continued fiercely, momentarily lost in his fury while Bilbo carefully edged away, "They are drawn to treasure like flies to dead flesh!"

"Oh the hypocrisy." H'anigi could not help but mutter to herself even as resurgent worry made her heart pound.

With clear rancor the dragon approached in massive strides that made Bilbo drop himself out of sight as though down a hill in order to build distance. "Did you not think I knew this day would come?" Smaug glared, "That a pack of canting dwarves would come crawling back to the mountain!"

Against her better judgment, H'anigi made a hair of an attempt to follow them. A rank foolishness that was objected to in the strongest of terms as the spell that harried her returned in strength. She had but to hold her eyes shut for any length of time and was rendered unable to advance for fear that she in her disoriented state would drop off an edge and potentially fall for too long a while.

"Twelve confound you!" fury took the miqo'te who barely managed to remain on all four and in desperation went on to strike her head against the floor, "Get out of my head!"

It did not relent.

"You don't know everything, O Smaug the Mighty," cried the now more distant hobbit, "Not gold alone brought us hither."

Smaug laughed, "Ha! Ha! You admit the 'us', Mr. Lucky Number."

"I tell you," Bilbo persisted, "gold is not the reason for our being here. We came over hill and under hill, by wave and wind, for revenge. Surely. O Smaug the Tyrant, you must realize that your success has made you some bitter enemies?"

Now Smaug truly did laugh, and the very roots of the mountain quaked at its clamor, "Revenge!" he snorted and the whole chamber lit up as though a volcano just erupted, "Revenge! The King under the Mountain is dead and where are his kin that dare seek revenge? Girion Lord of Dale is dead, and I have eaten his people like a wolf among sheep, and where are his sons' sons that dare approach me?"

"I kill where I wish and none dare resist. I laid low the warriors of old and their like is not in the world today. Then I was but young and tender. Now I am old and strong, strong, strong!"

"Thief in the Shadows!" Smaug continued, gloating, "My armor is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!"

H'anigi despite her brave facade trembled as Smaug roared and the cacophony increased. She could no more gleam what went on than shake at the spell that continued to stubbornly pester her, and muttered a fervent prayer for Bilbo's well-being. It was all she could do while pinned down like this until a harsh voice from behind interrupted her.

"Where is Bilbo?" Thorin demanded, his sword drawn.

She looked puzzledly over her shouldes at the armed dwarf, "Why are you here?"

But he would not relent, "Bilbo. Where is he?!"

"Bilbo is..." H'anigi looked back across the golden landscape and felt her heart jump at the sight that awaited her as the hobbit climbed into sight and hurriedly approached, having somehow evaded Smaug. She was about to call out when Thorin stomped past her in a way that did nothing but alarm her, and culminated as when Bilbo left the gold behind and came close, Thorin barred the way and pointed his sword at the confused hobbit's chest.

"The Arkenstone." Thorin glowered, probably eying the obvious failure of what was probably the only chance they had in deep anger, "Do you have it?"

She stared for a moment in abject disbelief, so abrupt was this act of hostility in the face of what bond they had just a short while ago. Bilbo was stunned to a lack of words, but H'anigi was not as her eyes darkened into visceral fury. "Thorin..." the spell seemed to loosen momentarily as she rose and gripped the handle of her axe, every fiber of her being lit with murderous intent, "What are you doing?"

Such was the venom in her words that Thorin even as fixated as he seemed gave a start and glanced at her. "Stay out of this." he growled.

"Spill one drop of his blood and you die." H'anigi spelled out, every word laced with solemn conviction that left no doubt in her will to go through with it, "Lower your sword."

Thorin hesitated, torn between his sudden obsession and equally abrupt fear of the miqo'te who glowered dangerously from where she loomed over him. It was in the middle of this stand-off that Bilbo found his words again and intervened, "C-can we have this confrontation later?" he stuttered nervously and pointed in the direction he came from as Smaug emerged, his eyes focused on the three of them like sinister twin suns, "We really ought to run..."

Made aware of Smaug, Thorin seemed to forget all about Bilbo as he stepped to the fore, and was quickly joined in turn as the rest of their company rushed in with their weapons held high. Defiant in the face of their adversary.

While admirable it only further encouraged the dragon who roared in glee at the upcoming slaughter and propelled himself onto the attack. "You will burn!" Smaug boomed his intention and turned red across the long neck and chest as staggeringly huge amounts of fire-based aether rapidly accumulated, about to let loose a cone of flame at them.

Against such an attack the narrow tunnel they came from would offer no defense. Instead they all after a collective howl leaped away, off the ledge, and left the chamber through a more favorably positioned door, their retreat momentarily protected by the bridge they left behind as the area was veritably bathed in blistering fire. Into the adjacent room the gout of flames failed to follow, but brought itself just far enough to set Thorin's cloak aflame and force him to shed it. "Come on." he tersely ordered, and their escape from the irascible Smaug continued.

An escape that led them through a considerable stretch of the underground kingdom's labyrinth-like halls of stone for wherever Thorin intended for them to go. H'anigi kept pace for the most part, her previously white-hot temper forcefully cooled down by the trepidation that now hung in the air together with the urgency of their current plight to simply survive. It however did not take long before the spell that she found subdued by her intense anger made its return, if in a strangely milder fashion than before.

Still, she stumbled and lost her balance oft enough that several of the dwarves became worried. Enough so that before long she came to be flanked by Balin and a well-meaning Glóin who kept her steady after Bilbo told them what happened to her.

"I can not believe it." Balin commented with unease as he eyed their surroundings distrustfully, "To know Erebor was stained with such aether all along."

"Don't jump to such a conclusion." Glóin scoffed and argued, "Smaug must be at fault."

H'anigi shook her head, "Smaug had nothing to do with it. Of that I am sure."

"How?"

"This magic is a product of specific design. Far as I can tell, all of this aether is here for no other reason than to facilitate it."

Balin narrowed his eyes, "What sort of specific design?"

She softly groaned, "Its purpose... is to lead me somewhere, and disturbs my senses if I do not follow the instruction given... or in this case, avoid endangering myself."

"In what form is this instruction given?"

"Contraction of aether. All of it around tightens into what you might call a string whenever I as much as blink."

"Strange." Balin grimly nodded, "It sound like the opposite of Mirkwood's curse."

"It really does." Glóin growled in kind.

"But that makes me wonder." Bofur joined in from ahead, "How come you're the only one affected?"

H'anigi resisted the urge to blink as they crossed a bridge, one more narrow than she was comfortable with, "I... don't know."

"Maybe it comes down to sensitivity." Balin theorized curiously, "You're the only one of us who can sense this 'aether'."

"That does make sense." Glóin accepted the reasoning with a nod, "But it doesn't explain how it's here in the first place. If it was neither Smaug nor dwarf..."

A sullen silence settled, the dwarves uneasy about this new knowledge of their homeland, until they were pulled out of it after a further distance when finally Thorin called in a hushed tone for a halt in front of another chasm, complete with a dangerously narrow bridge of its own. It was an aspect of the otherwise very impressive architecture she found herself like very little. Not even kobolds could have built a city like this.

 _Huh, how would those beastmen react had they seen somethimg like this?_

"We've given him the slip." said Dori hopefully.

"No..." cautioned the wiser Balin, "He is too cunning for that."

"Based on which set of standards?" H'anigi questioned in annoyance, "He's a moody git with a prideful streak that could have bridged this kingdom from end to end in a single bound."

Bilbo looked around, "Never mind that. Where are we going?"

"The western guardroom." Thorin supplied solemnly, "There may be a way out."

"It's too high. There's no chance..." Balin said, skeptical.

"But it is our only chance. We have to try."

 _Aside from, perhaps, the main gate?_ H'anigi thought, but their course was set. With muted enthusiasm did they all proceed across the bridge, hopeful that Smaug would not pick up on their location. So total was the silence that when a single coin abruptly fell made a decent boom to the consternation of every one who tried to figure out who lost it. Chiefly the attention fell on Nori who simply held up his hands and shrugged confusedly, and Bilbo who rummaged through his pockets in a similar fashion before yet more coins fell and made them look up.

Lo and behold, there was Smaug on his way past. Strangely unaware of the quarry underneath.

Thorin urged them to move on, and they left the bridge with cautious haste. Soon after with the dragon comfortably far away, they picked up their pace and hurried through the subsequent series of hallways. And at the end of it, a scene akin to a morgue awaited them that stopped everyone dead in their tracks.

"That's it then. No way out." Dwalin growled as he beheld the collapsed entryway at the far end of this space, which spelled the doom of these unfortunates who littered the floor. Many of whom, the miqo'te noticed barely, appeared to be women and children. All who starved and thirsted to death as they huddled together in fear.

"The last of our kin." whispered a sullen Balin, "They must have come here... hoping... against hope. We could try reach the mines... there we might last a few days."

"No." Thorin refused numbly, "I will not die like this, cowering and clawing for breath." and made a decision, "We'll make for the forges."

"He'll see us. Sure as death." Dwalin stated, matter of fact.

The dwarf leader looked on his friend evenly, "Not if we split up."

"Thorin..." Balin seemed less than sure, "We'll never make it."

"Some of us might." Thorin stood unbending, "Lead him to the forges. We kill the dragon. If this is going to be our end, then we shall all burn together."

 _OoOoO_

"Two more flights. Come on."

An hour had quickly passed since Thorin made his declaration of defiance, and the company had since fully separated into twos and threes and dispersed through the many paths that stretched from the relative area they started in. H'anigi on her side found herself in the company of Dwalin and Glóin, the latter of whom insisted that they plunge further into Erebor's dark depths before they would take a turn for the city forge.

H'anigi supposed that was why Glòin conferred with Balin for so long, to find a relatively safe route that took her condition into consideration. Her tail swished agitatedly as she thought about it, her hatred toward the curse almost blinding in its intensity. It had turned her into a liability, and she loathed how it forced her companions to plan accordingly.

They were already far from where the others traveled, and felt the tremors as Smaug found them and gave chase.

"Now where to?" Dwalin hollered as they crossed the two flights and indicated the same-numbered exits that presented themselves.

Glóin frowned at each, then nodded at the one straight ahead and made a run through it, "This way."

"Are you sure of it?" asked Dwalin gruffly as he and she followed close behind, the hallway quick to give away for a large tunnel complete with many mine carts suspended by great lengths of old rope or wire.

The brown-bearded dwarf positively beamed as well as can be expected as faint tremors from above demonstrated Smaug's ire at his elusive prey. H'anigi felt anxiety and anger as she recalled that Bilbo wound up with Thorin, the irritation born from knowing that only softened by Balin's presence alongside them.

"Positive." Glóin confirmed and for a spell looked at either end of the tunnel before he staked out a course to follow. A path that led them across what looked like the boundary of a mine so massive that she could only guess as to how far it stretched on, into which the only entryways appeared to be huge shafts surrounded by winch-like contraptions so deep the bottom was far out of sight.

When the dwarves decide to dig into the soil, nothing could conceivably stop them.

 _The mining guilds of Ul'dah could probably learn a thing or two here..._ H'anigi thought with passing amusement, who would not mind a look down one of these shafts if it was not for their current plight. It was too bad really.

After another pair of tunnels they came upon the greatest shaft yet, so wide that Smaug could probably traverse it with much room to spare. A thought the busty marauder immediately wanted to snatch away when the greatest tremor yet erupted, this one too close for their comfort.

"Smaug is almost upon us!" Glóin cried out.

Dwalin reacted immediately, "Behind the carts, quick!"

With more haste than grace they ducked in behind a line of mine carts where H'anigi found her heart sink in subtle disbelief as her compatriots tried and abjectly failed to be quiet, and only wound up shifting noisily in place. Subtlety was most certainly not their strongest suite.

"It's Thorin." the bald dwarf observed with at least the sense to speak in a low voice.

H'anigi saw him too, but only had eyes for the hobbit who together with the aging Balin brought up the rear. All of them looked as though they had Smaug on their collective tail, which was by all accounts true as the dragon extricated himself from the narrow passage they had just traversed and made from them with a holler of hatred so pure it was holy.

"Oakenshield!" Smaug cried, apparently having learned the dwarf leader's name, and set about the task to set him aflame. Balin shouted in alarm as the resulting fiery tidal wave raced for them and pulled Bilbo with him into an alcove on the side, a decision that saved both of them. Thorin on the other hand was too far ahead and could only continue to run at a frenzied pace in a hopeless effort to outpace the fire already licking at his heels.

A feat he only accomplished through a suicidal leap into the shaft, followed by an erratic screech of the winch closest to where he fell as its rope was caught on to. Unfortunately its counterweight had been locked in place by whoever operated the winch last.

This meant that even if Thorin did not lose his grip once the rope went down as far as it could, he would be easy prey for the irascible dragon who plunged into the shaft next, unwilling to let simple gravity rob him of his kill.

Dwalin, not about to let either come to pass, jumped out of cover soon as the final length of dragon was gone from sight and dashed to the winch with a holler, "Thorin!" and with his weapon struck the mechanism so it released the counterweight.

Inevitably Thorin's descent came to bone-crushing halt and he was instead launched back up and past the dragon at a dizzying speed. Smaug sneered at this development, but twisted himself about just in time to shut his jaws on the harness that hung at the rope's end. A cry echoed from the dwarf, followed by a far closer shriek of metal as Smaug tugged and ripped the winch free from its mount like it was so much paper much to the dwarves' collective dismay.

"Another rope, hurry!" Balin bellowed despondently.

H'anigi joined them at the edge and stared at the spectacle below while Dwalin and Glóin made haste to operate another winch in spite of Thorin's hopeless position. While his fall was short, he landed on the snout of Smaug, who only delayed the execution to contemplate a manner of death. There was no way they could lower a new rope in time.

Still, she stared as though bewitched at the fate that would be all of theirs before long when all sense told her they should get going to at least rob Smaug of an audience, until a steely voice that was not her own overrode all of it.

 _Position Viable For Utility Capture. Must Acquire._

It came with such suddenness that H'anigi could only blurt out a strangled gasp before the aetheric rope that has till now been no more than an annoyance explosively gained in power and struck her chest like it was a physical object, then latched onto her spirit.

 _Initiate Assault._

That moment H'anigi lost all semblance of control over her body, and everything turned into a daze. A hollow sort of absolute terror was all that she could feel as her body was made to draw her axe then made a running leap off the edge to the alarm of everyone else. Bilbo's outcry sounded distant enough that it could have come from many leagues away.

Guidance – its apparent identify far as she could discern – had her grab hold of the rope Dwalin and Glóin worked to lower and used it to plummet in a controlled fashion. Its target however was not Thorin, but Smaug who chortled in sadistic glee as he finally decided on how to end the dwarf's life.

She crossed the gap at such speed that only too late did Smaug even see the approaching female and pivoted his left eye to try and focus on her. It did not occur to him, convinced about his own invincibility, to even try and close it until she came within inches of it, and in a fluid motion plunged the weapon deep enough to smash his eye in twain.

Smaug was rendered utterly silent, unable to comprehend what just happened, before the world seemed to shatter in a rock-splitting scream of agony that made the region quake like never before.

Guidance was merciful enough to numb down her sense of hearing as her muscles strained from the abrupt halt, caught footholds in what gaps existed amidst Smaug's coat of scales, and wedged the lids that had slammed shut on her axe just far enough agape to next thrust her right arm in, so she could grasp at the meat in the far end of the socket, where she grabbed hold and dug her nails in.

An invasion that furthered the flailing Smaug's misery.

 _Connection Imparted._ Guidance growled monotonously. It did not care about the dragon's suffering, but neither did she. _Assuming Direct Control._

And in an intensive burst of aetheric transmission that utilized her body as a conduit, the curse that plagued her since their entry into Erebor became Smaug's as well.

 _Utility Acquired._

 _OoOoO_

Thorin had no idea in the world what just happened. Just a moment ago he saw H'anigi drop past him with one hand on her axe and its sister clutched on a length of rope, an entirely futile and unbelievably reckless gesture followed immediately by the eruption of pandemonium as Smaug shrieked in obvious pain.

Whatever she did, the woman had struck a blow that even the whole army of Erebor and Dale could not.

At the moment though he was far more busy with saving himself as the wildness of Smaug's subsequent thrashing made him lose balance and tumbled down like a rag doll. All thoughts of dignity thrown to the wind as he tried to grab for literally anything that could break his descent, until he found a rope and caught on.

Thankfully it held, but expected Smaug to smash him into the shaft wall any moment now till the gargantuan form stilled and grew quiet like someone had flipped a lever. Even more bizarre, it relinquished its grasp on the shaft and dropped almost limply into the darkness below.

Rendered speechless, Thorin could only stare as questions without number pounded against his skull, unable to believe what he had beheld as those above got around to pull him up.

 _OoOoO_

The immense strain on her muscles just to stay on aside, H'anigi was after the initial panic perfectly relaxed in her resignation – funny how complete helplessness feels the same as being in complete control – as Guidance used her and Smaug both to whatever end it intended. Was it not for how worried the others must be at the sheer promptness of her departure, she would have giggled madly at the utter absurdity of their situation.

As for Smaug, she could only imagine what he must feel about this. Given his previous behavior, it probably amounted to a fit of roiling hatred only matched by the agony and pain. Doubtlessly he now tried to find a chink in Guidance's impossibly intricate spell work with every intent to devour her whole after the fact.

She mentally shrugged as well as able and focused on their short trip through the darkness of Erebor's mines. The dwarves had truly dug greedily and deep, enough to produce a massive canyon that did nothing but stretch on – like everything they embarked on. Occasionally she could gleam masterfully built scaffolds that stretched down from the various shafts as they flew on.

Guidance had Smaug travel through this canyon at length, and after what amounted to a minute of flight it had the dragon rear back and latch onto a wall of dirt and rock seemingly no different from any other wall down here. H'anigi only knew that here... is where the path set out for her ended.

Or to be more precise, her destination lay beyond it as Guidance readily attested to as Smaug started to dig deep furrows into the wall, utilizing his enormous strength to rip and break off massive chunks till it collapsed to reveal an odd chamber covered in ornate tiles, fully dark except a distant couple of panels that shone a gentle blue and yellow light respectively.

As if pleased by this progress and eager to have her come closer, Guidance laid Smaug's long head against the floor to allow her disembarkation.

H'anigi waited for the entity to make her move again, only to gasp in surprise as a strange coolness blasted the feverish heat caused by the curse from her body... and found that her flesh was hers again. The only reason she did not cry out in elation was the knowledge that if the curse had faded from her, then Smaug's freedom would not be far behind.

Fueled by that understanding, she pulled her gore-drenched arm out of the dragon's butchered eye socket and let herself fall to the ornate floor where she against the protests of her fatigued body made for the closest pillar.

"You wounded me. You took my eye. Tainted me with your vile sorcery. Rode me like a beast." Smaug hissed dangerously as the curse slipped from him as well, and allowed him to stir with the apoplectic rage that had built up over his brief imprisonment. "How dare you?!" his previously articulated voice had turned into a bitter howl, "I will see you burn!"

With just a second to spare, H'anigi managed to throw herself behind the pillar before the dragon lit up and blasted his fire at where she hid.

"Die!" Smaug roared hatefully, "DIE!"

Only the obstacle between her and the dragon who sought her demise kept her from being burnt to a crisp in an instant, but the ambient heat alone threatened to kill her before long as the enraged dragon kept up the barrage, before the oddest thing happened.

H'anigi felt the heat taper off, and blinked in astonishment as the pillar seemed to pull in and devour the flames. No, that was not entirely correct. It deconstructed the dragon fire into its original aetheric state, and absorbed it – plus a large amount of the stagnant aether that permeated Erebor even this far into its depths (though she began to suspect that aether was somehow released from here in the first place)

"What is this?" Smaug blurted out in abject shock.

Once the last sliver of fire fell away, the whole chamber lit up. Every pattern on the pillars glowed a strong green, while the other facets in their turn emitted a bright cyan light except the far back wall which put on display a mural that depicted a bronze giant whose face had been drawn into a perpetual frown. The dragon merely stared at it all in bafflement, but H'anigi's attention focused entirely on what was mounted in the chamber's center.

An aetheryte. An honest to Twelve aetheryte!

She was disappointed to see it was dormant, but it being wholesome meant it was a damn sight better than the wreckage of what she came out of in the Misty Mountains. And if a quick glance at the blue panel on its socket told her anything, her hope was not lost.

Further investigation had to wait though considering the current crisis, and the next thing to catch their attention. What she thought was a yellow panel had just seamlessly risen from its socket in the floor to reveal a bizarre construct that was essentially an entirely golden cube. It divorced itself from the socket entirely and came to hover without aplomb.

If she was a betting girl, that had to be Guidance. And it confirmed as much:

"Guidance Node Operational."

"Welcome To Nexus Installation #003."

And was immediately blasted by the uncomprehending Smaug, only to see his fire absorbed again – this time by every pillar. The cube as it turned out did not even flinch.

"Usefulness Of Utility Expended." it droned dismissively, "Disposal Procedure Enabled."

H'anigi watched wide-eyed, unable to tear her gaze away as alcoves burst open across all the six pillars that surrounded the aetheryte and released dozens of pinioned constructs of not so considerable size – barely half a dwarf's height at best – yet made their purpose most clear as they raced upon Smaug like a swarm of angry hornets.

Initially Smaug thought little of these miniscule challengers as he emitted a harsh snort and brought up his great claws to simply swipe them all away. His contempt, however, turned to incredulity as they like silvery fish nimbly dodged what would have been a fatal blow and made their attack.

At the foremost point of each one, aether amassed in unbelievable concentrations to produce narrow beams of immense power to accomplish what only black arrows could do previously. Smaug howled in added agony as these struck home and cut into his flesh, the scales unable to offer him protection at all. Hatred turned to panic and defiance as he made attempts to strike back, to swipe, to bite, to char them into flying puddles of melted metal. Retaliations that were rendered futile as the machines closed the gap and swarmed all around him. Defiance turned to fear as they cut away scales and spilled his blood that was cauterized by the beams soon as it bubbled from open wounds.

Arrogance gave away to cowardice as Smaug grew acutely aware of his own mortality and launched himself from the chamber, turned tail and fled with all the considerable speed he could muster, with or without the knowledge that the contraptions would not leave him alone anytime soon as they sped off in pursuit of their quarry.

 _OoOoO_

It was not common knowledge, but even Smaug suffered bad dreams from time to time, chief among them nightmares of theft where he never found the culprit nor the treasure stolen. He could rage endlessly yet never succeed in his thorough search, and was doomed to writhe in bitter regret as eventually the next dream took him over.

Never did even the worst of his nightmares conceive of a travesty such as this, helpless to defend himself as he was chased through the mines and up the largest shaft from whence he came by an utterly inscrutable and soulless swarm that persistently tore and bit into his flesh as they skimmed alongside him, implacable in their purpose.

Smaug heard the many screams that tore from many tiny throats as he brought himself from the shaft, and even saw the horrified Thorin among the throng that scurried away from him, unable to discern that it was in fact he who now was the victim of aggression.

No care was taken as he struck his mighty frame through walls and knocked any number of flimsy obstacles aside on his way to the next open space where he took flight once again, and howled as further pain spread along his back. One of the tiny gnats shot past his head and he impotently snapped at it, an effort wasted as it darted out of the way and shot the tongue for his effort.

Even now as he made his way through the city the pests still followed. Smaug ignored the copper taste that spread in his maw while he considered on which direction to take. A decision that proved all too easy. One he would never otherwise contemplate.

It took too long for his liking to clamber up and find the grand hall that lead up to the main gate and greater world beyond, a journey that passed in a daze as the torture inflicted upon him became nigh unbearable. Only after what felt like an age did he reach the cold outside and there took briefly to the sky.

Smaug thought the miniscule contraptions remained in pursuit for a short while yet, and only realized the infliction of new pain had finally stopped as he clumsily landed onto the ruins of Dale and turned his enormity to gaze at the gates of Erebor, where the gnats had come to hover for a scant moment before they sped back inside.

No doubt they hid away, in wait for him to come back.

A paltry trick he would not fall for. Not ever.

That said, Smaug contemplated his next course of action when the injures caught up to him now that the adrenalin in his veins started to ebb. With a slump he laid himself against the ruins and crushed several houses under his bulk before he coiled about to assess the damage.

Impotent anger lit up his one remaining eye as he stared at the many scars that now stained his form, with many patches of flesh fully exposed, as naked and vulnerable as when he came from the egg.

Unforgivable.

Smaug wheezed and tore into the cobbled streets, with every desire to murder and butcher for what had been inflicted upon him... though he knew well neither the dwarves, thief, or that woman could be reached with those dread guardians in the way.

What did that leave for him to cast his frustration on?

Then it struck him. Where else could these wretched thieves have readied themselves in and traveled from but Esgaroth?

Greedy little lake-men must have conspired against him. Him. The King under the Mountain.

Esgaroth it is then. He would come down and butcher with abandon, chase them into the lake, and watch as they starve and freeze to death in the open water. A thought that provided him some anticipative cheer as he lowered his head to what was once a plaza to rest and regain his strength for the effort to come.

Vengeance would be his... as if his right.

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi had no idea how much time passed since Smaug bid his retreat, and found little reason to care. She was exhausted both in mind and body, unable for a long while to even find the strength to stand. Bad enough that only the desire for a proper bed, some food, and a bath to clean herself up in kept her conscious.

Eventually she looked up from the floor she sat upon and thoughtfully examined the dormant aetheryte that come to think of it was quite block-like in appearance compared to those she's seen in the past, and lushly ornate. What it looked like was not important though. She finally found an aetheryte, and needed only to find out how to start it up.

"Okay..." the miqo'te whispered to herself as she went through the ordeal to get back on her feet and approach the panel that she gleamed earlier and see if she could make sense of it. The cube that introduced itself as 'Guidance Node' was in its turn mercifully silent and for all she knew did not pay attention to her at all.

It guided her hereto, probably to fix this thing, and that's all that mattered far as it was concerned.

She came to lean against the aetheryte's pedestal and looked at the panel that contrary to what she observed was actually an opening that laid the interior bare. Still, she peered in and was not surprised to find she could not make heads or tails of the mechanism. It appeared as an incredibly sophisticated latticework laced with incredibly resplendent oval-shaped crystals. Each of them small enough to fit in her palm.

But while much of it was completely inscrutable, a lone empty socket among them that noticeably bled aether – vast amounts of it – into the environment was what finally clued her in as to why this aetheryte wouldn't function.

"Heh." the miqo'te smiled tiredly, "So the vaunted Arkenstone's a missing component."

"That's going to make for a fun conversation."

H'anigi pushed herself from the pedestal and approached the cube next, "You want me to put this thing in working order, right?"

"Affirmative." Guidance Node flatly replied.

"Thought so..." H'anigi drawled, "Okay. I think I know how to fix this, but I'm going to need a way out of here."

"Acknowledged." Guidance Node without ado produced from its upper facet a heavily inscribed rectangular stone that was roughly the size of the average key. "This Will Facilitate Conveyance."

She asked bluntly in puzzlement, "How?" as she picked the item up and held it up close for examination through narrowed eyes.

"Authorization Required For Use Of On Site Teleporter." it replied, nonplussed, "Device In Turn Require Thought To Designate Destination."

"Intended For Swift Travel By Officers. Cannot Use Without Knowledge Of Destination. Oversight That Doomed On Site Work Force."

"Something went wrong." commented the miqo'te conversationally as she looked around for this teleporter, and supposed she found it upon walking onto the only tile on the floor that was shaped like a circle and watched as it and the stone in her possession lit up and harmonized with one another to a brilliant tune.

"Rebel Infiltrator Displaced Vital Component. Collapsed Tunnel In Progress."

"That explains why this important a piece was so far from where it was intended." H'anigi replied, gaze fixed on the stone as she strained her mind to produce an image of the intended destination, "Came from an aetheryte deep in the mountains to the west. It was pretty messed up, and not secluded like this one. Any reason why?"

"Disposable Transportation Node." Guidance Node droned, it sounded almost like a snort, "Only Six Installations Were Fortified. Our Lord Saw No Reason To Do It Onto The Rest."

H'anigi grimaced at the memory of the fellow traveler who died in the Misty Mountains, who could probably have survived the ordeal if the builders had not skimped on their budget, "I... see." and kept her mouth duly shut from questioning about this lord it spoke of. While it had not explicitly been told of yet, she already knew who the builders of the implied-to-be many aetherytes that dotted the Middle-Earth were, though only because of one lone moment in the past, courtesy of a pirate who was once upon a time a scholar of Sharlayan.

But rather than delve into it, H'anigi focused wholly on the stone till the place where she wanted to go had all but solidified in her thoughts, which was followed by... the completely airy nothingness she associated with travel through an aetheryte as the device activated and took her away.

For a moment all aches vanished, a glorious sensation she enjoyed fully for the entirety of the couple of seconds it lasted before she and the pad underneath her feet materialized in the much larger chamber upstairs and was met by the cacophony of more than a dozen voices that yelled in surprise. But that was as far as she could acknowledge before the strain of what she had been put through made its harsh return.

Only a weak smile and a nod of reassurance did H'anigi manage to put up to the shocked audience before she fell bodily against the pad, out like a light.

 _OoOoO_

"H'anigi!" Bilbo shouted, first to break out of the stunned stupor that her return – and the manner of it – impressed upon all of them and ran down there where she lay upon the strange pad. It was strangely warm to the touch, but his attention was laid solidly on the woman as he knelt down by her and placed a couple of fingers onto her neck.

This was in fact real and not some fanciful collective hallucination. Bilbo seethed in relief as his hand met the miqo'te's smooth skin and felt her pulse. "Off, lad!" the first dwarf to arrive kindly ordered. Oin was noticeably reluctant to stand on this strange plate, but his duty as their medic overrode all other concerns.

With a start and a nod, Bilbo leaned away to offer more space as Oin lowered himself on the other side of her and went to work. Oin took her by the nearest wrist to feel the pulse while he opened an eye to take a good look at her pupil.

A deduction was not far off, by which time the whole company assembled around them, a healthy step from the boundary marked by the plate. "How is she?" Thorin demanded.

"Buggered to the void and back."Oin sighed as he continued to care for the unconscious woman, every motion made with the utmost of care, "I'd be surprised if she woke three days from now. I suggest we move her to a more well-suited place so she may rest."

"Do so." Thorin said quietly, "Dwalin, you will carry her and otherwise assist Oin however you can. Glóin, you will aid them as well – go ahead and find a proper place, one fit for all us."

A chorus of "Aye!" followed as Dwalin jogged to the woman's prone body and under Oin's supervision hoist her onto his back. A sight that was mildly comical given her greater stature.

"Oi, watch the tail." Oin growled in turn as Thorin's closest friend neglected the fur-covered appendage. Dwalin on his side growled an expletive as he awkwardly fenced her tail in underneath his arm.

Glóin briefly looked on the stone she dropped upon arrival, and hesitated before he carefully retrieved it and shoved the thing into the nearest of H'anigi's pockets.

"I want to go with them." Bilbo implored.

"Nay." Thorin interrupted, adamant, "You, Fili and Kili will go and seek out Smaug. See if those mechanisms," he applied a meaningful look to Bofur and Bifur who discerned the creatures that chased Smaug as artificial in nature, "managed to kill him. Or assess the damage if they haven't."

He wanted to argue, but the dwarf leader made his order with utmost finality. "We'll do as you ask, uncle." Kili replied solemnly, and was seconded by his brother immediately after.

Thorin gave a nod to his nephews, "Balin, you will come with me to the backdoor. If there are any ravens out in the sky, we must enlist one to bring a message to my cousin Dáin. To tell him Erebor is back in dwarven hands, that Smaug has been scarred and wounded, laid bare of scales across great swathes. If he yet lives, a hail of black arrows can now easily slay the beast."

"All the rest of you spread out to scour every armory, every storage room and elsewhere. Find supplies, find bows and black arrows wherever you may. We must consolidate before Smaug thinks to make a renewed attempt on our lives, so the next time he tries... we will lay him low!"

After the chorus of affirmatives, the company scattered from the strange pad. No questions asked about it, or even a cursory attempt to examine the thing. All of them unanimously decided without a word that the subject of it and all else they did not know was best left for when H'anigi's in a position to talk, unaware of how profoundly the discovery made far below might affect the whole of their world in the future.

* * *

 **Author notes:** Big chapter, plenty of action, a few passages from the book, a big reveal, and a few references. In many ways due to the ambitiousness of this chapter, it was a real pain at times to put together. I also modified the seventh chapter at its very end to accommodate the contents of this chapter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Fire and Water, Doubt or Trust**

* * *

"Do we really have to cross that?" Bilbo asked and cared not if his voice carried a wee bit of cowardice, which he deemed well-justified because of what they were faced with. It had taken what remained of the night for them to follow the path of carnage left in the panicked Smaug's wake up to Erebor's entry hall in order to find out whether he was dead. No body was found, and it was strongly implied that Smaug flew out of the mountain altogether.

The strange mechanisms that chased him out on the other hand seemed to have decided to consider Smaug chased off and instead flitted about between them and Erebor's once mighty gates without apparent care, illuminated by the light of dawn in such a way that they seemed more akin to exotic chandeliers than weapons of war, an impression made explicit as they frequently repositioned to the tune of crystals clinking gently together.

All of what little they knew pointed to H'anigi having summoned them to combat Smaug, but the ease with which they sliced scales and pieces of meat off the dragon made Bilbo loath to trust them, dreading what such power could do to a person. And for all they knew, the mechanisms are simply waiting for a convenient target to amble by.

"Believe me, I really do not like this either even half a bit..." Fili replied with equal discomfort, "Yet... we must confirm whether Smaug's still alive, somehow."

Kili nodded, "Then let us be on our way." and paced onward, filled with nervous energy.

"No, Kili!" his brother hissed, but did not dare to raise his voice, "What if those things attack? We could try and find another way!"

"Trust in the woman who brought them out if you don't trust them." Kili stopped and looked back at them, "Surely nothing bad will happen so long we don't act aggressively."

Bilbo squirmed, "We don't know what precisely they define as aggressive."

"We'll never know if we don't try." Kili stressed before he continued his approach of the gates.

While afraid, Bilbo recognized that Kili's words did ring true. So it was that Bilbo decided belatedly to follow him, though nervously. Judging by the additional footfalls behind him, Fili fell in with them.

Bilbo looked up as they soon passed under the mess of mechanisms, and watched uneasily as they seemed to take no offense at their presence and continued to idly flit hither and dither, seeming completely benign in their inaction. It was a wholly jarring experience that somehow completely outmatched his face to face conversation with Smaug. At least he was somewhat comprehensible.

Slowly did they progress underneath the swarm, with trepidation in every step. Bilbo was so entirely tense that he barely dared to breathe for the whole duration even as they eventually cleared the infested area and arrived at the gates proper.

And there like someone cut their strings, he and the twins all collapsed to the knees in naked relief. "We... we are still alive." Fili said under his breath, unable to believe their fortune.

"See?" Kili flicked a thumb up, with a brave front put up, "No problem."

Fili groaned, "I'll be more like to believe you when you've stopped sweating spades, brother." and pushed himself back up, "Now, let's see what we can find."

"... Aye."

Bilbo shook his head and followed them up the nearest set of stairs until they reached the very top of the outer wall that framed the long since broken gate. And from there, they peered outward. Bilbo wanted to lose himself in the cold breeze, but narrowed the eyes in his attempt to find any sign of Smaug... and soon noticed a strangely rounded bump that like a sore thumb stuck out from the townscape of Dale. "There," Bilbo pointed, "I see him!"

"Well spotted!" Kili commended as he came about and followed his line of sight, "Truly it must be him. But is he dead?"

"Dead or just out of it." Fili muttered in observation, "Too far away to know for sure."

Bilbo bobbed his head, "We now know where he is at least. Now what?"

"We stay and keep watch until we find out, or new orders come tell us otherwise."

By far this was not what Bilbo wanted to hear, though he could not argue with the reasoning as they agreed next on the watch order. Being the first to spot Smaug, he wound up taking the first watch. So with resignation he took a large broken brick on the side for a chair and looked on while the brothers went back down and away from the wind.

What followed was several hours of nothing, where boredom eventually threatened to crush the tenseness that first kept Bilbo vigilant before Fili came up and took the second watch. Relieved and thankful, Bilbo let the dwarf take his place and ventured down with every intent to lie down and take a nap even if he lacked a bed and any such comforts.

"Here you go." Kili appeared as though he had silently sprouted from the ground behind him and threw to him a rolled up blanket and what seemed like a pack of food.

Bilbo started and barely managed to grab onto both. "Since when...?" he blurted as he looked to the familiar wares they certainly did not bring along.

"Dori came by for an update on our situation an hour ago." the dark-haired dwarf informed him, "And brought us a few bare necessities while at it."

 _And I did not even hear him come. Some watchman I am..._ Bilbo sighed inwardly. Still, he thanked Kili and the long gone Dori as he walked to find a place well-shielded from the wind – anywhere but the entry hall – and sat down to tuck in before he tucked himself in, and was fast asleep.

When next he woke, it was to the sound of a tired Kili's voice, "Your turn."

Slightly groggy and with the blanket still wrapped around him, Bilbo barely acknowledged the dwarf and climbed the stairs to take up his prior position upon the wall in hollow expectation for another uneventful shift that threatened to put him to sleep. And the next turn of his fared no better.

Evening came eventually, if only after what felt like an eternity, followed by an encroaching night so dark he could not at all see even the faintest outline of Dale, let alone the dragon who he started to suspect had gone the stretch to hibernate as in all this time he hasn't budged an inch. It seemed equally possible that Smaug had silently kicked the bucket, but that sounded too good to be true.

The night stretched on, and Bilbo's fourth shift soon came about.

Once again he returned onto the wall, and shuddered at how the cold wind sank its fangs into him, against which his blanket offered no defense. "C-curse and damn this miserable night..." Bilbo hissed tersely, and let his thoughts wander, not for the last time, to the homely warmth of Bag End.

A moment of self-induced distraction that ended abruptly as a clamor erupted from Dale. Unable to see what went on, Bilbo could only listen dumbly as buildings suddenly crumbled and whole streets were torn in-between the labored snorts of a very much alive Smaug up until the dragon audibly spread his wings and with a few strong beats took to the air.

It occurred immediately to Bilbo that he should fall back, but he was too captivated by a strange turn of events. He thought Smaug would try and lay siege to Erebor, but rather than close in the wing-beats grew rapidly more distant.

To his own surprise, this development did not quite develop the pleasant relief he thought it would... and immediately realized why, for Smaug's seeming choice of direction did not at all sit well with him.

"Bilbo!" he heard Fili call as though from somewhere far away, "What's happening out there?!"

Pale from his realization, Bilbo was utterly silent as he stared where Smaug had gone to the south, in despair of what slaughter is about to take place, "He's going to Esgaroth..."

 _OoOoO_

Ever since the beginning of his imprisonment, Bard had no illusion about how miserable his treatment would be seeing as for how long the town's corrupt Master has been out to get him. Food was plain rubbish, guards jeered at him whenever it suited them, and his cell was windy and exposed – the middlemost part of a bridge suspended high above a broad waterway – and his own kids were only allowed to come see him every other day.

Safe to say it was unpleasant, which was the whole point.

Unable to sleep because of the cold, and worried that he might not wake again if he did fully turn in, Bard sat against the wall by his plain bed and listened to the occasional pedestrian to happen past who were more than likely to complain about not being at home like all the rest due to one duty or another.

That, however, changed when he heard a conversation not far away from a couple of men stood upon a tall watchtower.

"Look!" one of them said, "Lights upon the mountain, something is happening up there!"

"Perhaps the King under the Mountain is forging gold." the other said, "It has been a while since he went north after all."

"Which King?" a third man joined in, "As like as not it is the marauding fire of the Dragon, the only King under the Mountain we have ever known."

"You are always foreboding gloomy things!" said the first, "Anything from floods to poisoned fish. Think of something cheerful!"

Bard wrinkled his brows at the conversation, before a great light lit up from the north and drew cries of awe from the watchmen.

"The King beneath the Mountain." the second shouted, "His wealth is like the sun, the river is running gold from the Mountain!"

Naturally this got a reaction from the villagers as windows opened and people left their houses to see what spectacle the watchmen beheld in an onrush of excitement and enthusiasm. Bard did not share in their gladness as he rose and rushed to the lone window his cell had to its name, "The Dragon is coming or I am a fool!" he muttered into the night. "Cut the bridges!" Bard loudly demanded though he knew he had not the authority, it was do or don't and hope someone got the mind to go through with it, "To arms! To arms!"

If anyone had a mind to tell him to be quiet, the words died as the light everyone cheered about was joined by a distant bloodthirsty roar delivered with such force it might as well had been delivered to their faces. Jubilation turned to dread, and hysteria threatened to overcome the people as they now fled from the onrushing calamity. Fortunate it was then that Lake-town was not wholly unprepared for a situation like this as soon trumpets were sounded and everyone who hadn't turned out of their homes in a frenzy of activity to make preparation for the battle to come, whatever little they could manage – which included the bathing of all vessels and dwellings in water to mitigate the inevitable inferno, and the destruction of the two bridges that connected Lake-town to the shores.

Another roar erupted from the north, much closer now. Bard only got the time to peer about for any way to escape from his cell before the world seemed to turn upside down. One of the buildings that held the bridge between them was suddenly turned alight as Smaug upon arrival immediately strafed the village and doused a considerable stretch of it in flames so powerful that wood no matter the strength seemed to fade away like paper in a furnace.

Neither of the buildings that held the bridge could withstand the sudden strain and it broke away to the clamor of splintering wood and fell into the waterway. Luckily for the lone prisoner, this process twisted the structure out of shape and caused the door to break away so Bard could with unsteady steps slip out and make a clumsy run across the increasingly compromised hallway till he broke through the most splintered end and leaped onto the walkway just in the nick of time before the bridge sank beneath the waves.

"What a night..." Bard said through gritted teeth as he collapsed to his knees from the exertion, and the splinter of wood that had during his frantic escape buried itself into his side. It was painful to be sure, but he had no time to suffer and fought himself through it as he rose and made his way into the more or less undamaged half of the prison to find its armory.

Along the way he with trembling fingers pulled from his side the piece of wood, and tightly tied up a length of cloth picked up from a nearby table around his waist to halt the blood.

"... and it's far from over."

Bard labored through the place till he found the armory and picked out of it a great yew bow much to his liking, along with a full quiver the guards probably overlooked in their haste as they armed themselves and left to fight.

Satisfactorily armed, Bard hurried out and down the crowded streets with a list of objectives clear in mind. First of all he needed to check on his family and make sure they disembark before he would join the town's defense.

Everything he saw along the way though pointed to a worsening situation. Much of Lake-town was aflame, and volleys of arrows left the walls in hopeless pursuit of Smaug as he strafed the village again and again. Every wind lance had been burnt down, and everywhere he looked people either set out to the lake or tried desperately to extinguish the rampant fires.

It was a terrible situation, which was made in no way better by the sight of the town's Master. Rather than lead or help, the fat buffoon and his cohorts had loaded a boat to the brim with gold and sought only to flee. Had Bard been any less decent a man, he would have gladly stuck an arrow into the greed-addled coward.

"Dad!"

Bard's turned his attention forward in surprise as the children of his, spearheaded by Bain, pressed through the crowd to reach him, "Bain, Tilda, Sigrid, what are you doing here?!"

"We were coming to get you out of prison!" Bain halted to say while the girls flew into their father's embrace, fear etched on their faces.

"You three..." he sighed in exasperation and briefly hugged the girls, "All of you better get in a boat and disembark. Get away from the fire."

"What about you?" Tilda asked.

The enormous frame that promptly passed overhead – thankfully without soaking the immediate area in fire – more than explained what he needed to do. "I must fight." he said with determined finality, "All attempts to escape will be for naught if we cannot repel that monster."

"No!" the youngest girl cried stubbornly, desperate, "Stay with us!"

"Please, my daughter, there's no time." Bain told her straight, with feeling, "Be brave."

"Come." Sigrid in understanding of the urgency pulled Tilda by her shoulder, even if she too grieved and feared to lose their father, "We must go."

He looked to his son, the oldest of the siblings, "Bain, if I should fall, you're in charge. Take care of your sisters."

"I will." Bain nodded with suppressed reluctantce, "But before you go... you're going to need this." and held up an heirloom that has been in the family since the fall of Dale.

It was a black arrow. The one thing known to them that could with impunity pierce a dragon's thick hide. Bard stared before he almost reverently accepted it from his son's hand and felt its weight as he stowed it in his quiver, "I will make good use of it. Now go, find a boat, be swift before Smaug decide to turn this place aflame as well."

His children said their farewell, which they understandably dreaded would be their last, before they withdrew. Tilda whose face was covered in tears refused to leave, and had to be pulled along by her older siblings. Bard looked on for as long as he could afford, then turned and made his way toward the nearest wall from which arrows still flew.

 _OoOoO_

"What have we done?"

Bilbo asked this breathlessly, in shock, as he looked on at what seemed like no more than a bonfire at this distance. From the very moment of his spoken understanding of Smaug's wrathful intent, he had made his way to try and find any outlook that he could reach in a timely fashion at a mad dash – common sense be damned. Fili and Kili tried to dissuade him of course, and would have restrained him if it was not for Balin's timely arrival – who decided grimly for them to join him.

And so it was that the four of them, under Balin's guidance came to stand there at the closest and highest-positioned outlook he knew of and from there beheld the ongoing calamity with much sorrow... and horror.

With the mechanisms in place, Erebor had become nigh-unassailable, so in his rage the dragon had chosen to take his frustration out on the people of Lake-town instead.

"Poor souls." Balin sighed softly, "But there is nothing we could have done to prevent this."

Bilbo gritted his teeth, "We could have gone and killed him while he slept."

"No, Bilbo." Fili shook his head, "Even wounded as he is, in the open we'd need an army."

Kili somberly agreed, "Alone... we would have only managed to get ourselves killed."

"Had our original plan gone off without a hitch, this would have never happened." Balin weighed in sorrowfully, with great meaning, "Once it derailed, the future became uncertain."

And it could have been completed without wakening Smaug in the first place, had he been more cautious. Bilbo seethed with regret as he looked back at that moment where he in a fit of carelessness uncovered the dragon. So much could have been avoided, but he was stuck in the morass of the present, powerless to do anything but watch, as Smaug butchered with abandon.

Bilbo swore that he would make amends, one way or another.

 _OoOoO_

From the beginning of this night's struggle, no one could imagine this battle to have a happy outcome. A prediction that proved true insofar the battle has gone on as what little hope lived in the hearts of men flickered and faded. Already men jumped into the water on every side, while women and children are being huddled into laden boats. Weapons were flung down as what bravery kept the guardsmen going failed. People mourned and wept, and they cursed the dwarves who had gone up to the mountain and incurred the dragon's wrath.

But still there remained warriors upon the walls and among the dwellings even as Smaug turned more of the town into smoke and embers with every swoop. Storms of arrows were stubbornly loosed upon Smaug in every pass he made, when the dragon flew the lowest.

It was a brave resistance that held ground even as their arrows bounced harmlessly from the enormous beast in large part because of the grim-faced and grim-voiced man among them who encouraged and cheered on the others. He was no Captain, nor in any position of authority, but they knew of his worth and courage, and what respect the villagers held for him before became all the stronger in this darkest of hours where he fought steadfast against Smaug and refused to yield.

Bard shouted further encouragement into the fiery wind as he with his newly appropriated great yew bow launched another arrow skyward, and absently noted to himself the lightness of his quiver as the dispatched arrow broke harmlessly against the passing dragon's belly before he made a quick climb up a nearby ladder and positioned himself atop the roof it leaned on, with the hope that a more equalized altitude would better aid his effort.

Still the black arrow remained in his quiver. It was the only one available to him, and needed to be used only if he had no other choice.

From atop the roof he saw almost the whole village had been turned ablaze, and watched as Smaug unstoppably strafed yet again and sent even more structures crashing down. It was during this when finally the dragon slowed to look on his handiwork, the fruits of his labor, with an infuriating amount of satisfaction.

And in this fleeting moment, when the dragon hovered in place, illuminated by the sea of fire and a naked moon as the clouds faded away, Bard finally saw what had so far been masked by smoke and the incredible speed Smaug could muster.

Contrary to the impression Smaug made, he was in fact gravely injured. Bard was stunned to learn of all the massive scars and wounds that had been torn across what would otherwise had been an impeccable coat of scales. Bard also, if momentarily, met the dragon's gaze and learned an eye was missing – a conclusion drawn from how tightly closed Smaug kept its lids, and the shaft of a weapon that stuck out of it along with tendrils of gore.

Days before, the Master claimed that the dwarves most likely ventured forth with a plan of action in mind. It seemed the fat buffoon was right about in that respect, even if it was poor consolation given how the plan had failed to firmly put the dragon down.

"Warriors of Esgaroth!" Bard cried to those who remained below, "Send word to all who still fight! Look close, Smaug is wounded! Aim upon his injuries and we may yet drive him off!"

A cheer went up, and the company of archers renewed in their determination scattered.

From there, not long passed before their struggle was renewed as from many fronts scores of arrows were sent to the sky, and this time rather than bounce off harmlessly, the arrows stabbed into Smaug's frame, much to the dragon's consternation.

But still, though the arrows now found their marks and fastened into Smaug's damaged flesh, they would not be enough to fell him. Bard expended what few arrows he had left till when he for the last time reached into the quiver, his hand met with only cold metal.

Bard hefted it, and wondered whether this was a stroke of fate. The dwarves injured the beast, every wind lance was down, and here he stood with the only readily available black arrow at a perfect vantage point.

Amidst his musing, the now irate Smaug landed on the fiery townscape and brought his massive claws through men and dwellings alike, both smashed aside with equal impunity, his side presented to the lone bowman.

So be it.

"Arrow." Bard said as he brought the arrow to his bow and drew the string to his ear, "Black arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and always have I recovered you. I had you from my father, and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true King under the Mountain, go now and speed well!"

The great bow twang, and the black arrow sped straight and true for Smaug's exposed side, into one of the open wounds, and in a fierce rush of blood it pierced the stripped flesh and sank so it all but vanished, bard, shaft, and feather.

From this, such a shriek of pain exploded from Smaug's throat that it deafened the men closest to him, and crashed upon the surrounding structures like a shock wave. Bard was flung back by this wall of noise, yet he grinned victoriously amid his flight at how thoroughly the arrow had found its mark.

 _OoOoO_

Every precaution had been taken.

All possibilities were brought into account.

Nothing was left to chance.

But Smaug at the very end, on the brink of victory, lost himself to complacency at the worst possible time, and suffered for it. He failed to consider that among this smattering of pitifully powerless defenders, there could be a skilled archer armed with a black arrow that just waited for a perfect target.

A target he unwittingly provided when he least could afford it.

It already took every ounce of his will to fight through the blinding pain that haunted his every step since the night before. The addition of the arrow now lodged within his chest proved atop of his existing injuries to be altogether too much.

Smaug reared back and he screamed out in his misery, made all the worse as the deep breath of his made the arrow stir and tear against his innards.

Throughout all this, archers came out from every nook and cranny and launched arrows upon him, emboldened by the one archer's success and his own sudden weakness, his position rendered more and more untenable by the moment.

So it was with impotent rage and all the mightier frustration at having been defeated twice in so short amount of time that Smaug finally decided he had had enough. He grit his great jaws hard enough to draw blood and brandished the massive wings.

With great beats that buffeted the men around him, Smaug laboriously took to the sky and withdrew from the miserable village that would at the very least soon sink to the bottom of the lake, and contemplated on what to do next.

Revenge was of course what dominated the wounded Smaug's mind as he flew further out. It needed to be had... Only... how?

Then he remembered. Smaug's thoughts strayed to a particular point of the conversation he had with the diminutive creature that last night disturbed his long decades of sleep.

Dravania.

A great Kingdom of Dragons.

At the time he dismissed it as some fairy tale born from of an imaginative mind. But now, after what happened since, the claim seemed increasingly likely to have a sliver of truth in it... and therein lay the means to bring about his revenge. Whatever it takes, he would find a way to cross over to this other world and summon to his banner an army of dragons the likes of which hasn't graced the skies of Middle-Earth since the War of Wrath. A force that would paint the land red with the blood of those who wronged him, them and their equally wretched kin.

Not knowing how yet, he made the decision to offer his services to the one he knew would take great interest in this other world, the only lord since Morgoth he willingly would bow his head to, whose darkness he sensed has begun to cover the lands once again. And so he turned his back on Esgaroth and the Lonely Mountain for the time being, and for lack of a better destination made his way east.

To the blackened lands of Mordor, where the shadows lie.

 _OoOoO_

 _Blood has been shed this night..._ Gandalf observed glumly through barely open eyes as he watched the approaching dawn from within the hanging cage he had been confined to in the wake of his brutal defeat by Sauron's hand, which alongside the dark magics of Dol Guldur had weakened him profoundly. The loss of his staff also helped him none.

It was weakness such that he hasn't felt in an age.

"No spells will aid you here, old man!"

Being spoken to in the black speech of the orcs was certainly not what he needed right now... even less so the following treatment as the brutish creature plucked the cage from its hook and threw it roughly onto the ground.

"You have something the Master wants!" the orc demanded as it flung the cage opened and pulled the enfeebled wizard out by his collar.

Of course the Master wanted something, and knowing that provided a small comfort. Prying into one's mind is no simple task, and while Sauron had proven more powerful than Gandalf anticipated, the dark lord remained a pale shadow of his former self, otherwise he'd already have drained his mind of all knowledge.

And while their Master rested, this orc would try and force him to speak through simple torture.

"One of the three elven rings." his would-be torturer demanded further and threw him back onto the hard ground, sans the bars, "Where is it?"

Gandalf put on as stony a glare as he could muster, and with much effort deadpanned his drawl of a reply, "And... w-where else... would someone put a-a ring, orc?"

The orc was decidedly unimpressed and drew from its scabbard a crooked scimitar before it in a show of strength upended him and inspected his left hand, where it found a single spotless ring. "The Ring of Fire." the orc appraised and brandished the sword, "Where are the others?! Answer me or lose your fingers till none are left!"

This time, Gandalf kept silent. For that knowledge he would never divulge. In so doing, he prepared for the pain to come... before a musical note spoken in elvish danced in his ravaged mind.

 _Fear not... for you are not alone, Mithrandir..._

Such a beautiful voice, so rich, so gentle, and so warm, could belong to only one person in all of Middle-Earth. Gandalf turned far as he could, and looked upon none other than Lady Galadriel, the greatest and fairest of the Eldar.

Upon the sight of her, the foul orc too was stunned.

"I come for Mithrandir." Galadriel declared, "And I will leave with him."

To flee did apparently not cross the orc's mind as it reacted and stood, the blade held high.

"If you try to stop me..." the Lady of Light continued menacingly as she gained in power, "I will destroy you."

A roar of defiance left the orc as it charged for all of the instant it took for Galadriel to shatter the creature as though it was a statue of clay before she motioned to Gandalf and with much grace and strength that belied her slight frame pulled him free from the cold ground.

More at peace than he has been for days, Gandalf surrendered entirely to the weakness that has only grown since his capture and collapsed into a half slumber where all he could do was let what followed pass in a daze. Only barely did he acknowledge the battle that soon followed when the dreaded Nine, Kings of Men who fell to the power of their rings, appeared from thin air to surround Galadriel, only to be beset by the great white wizard, Saruman, and Master Elrond.

Against the likes of these, the Nine, even cursed as they are, stood little chance.

"Mithrandir..." Galadriel spoke softly to him while they fought, "Come back..." and gently leaned in to place a kiss on his forehead.

Gandalf drew a sharp breath and started awake, invigorated by the power imbued in her words and gesture. He blinked repeatedly, and gasped in attempt to warn the Lady as everything came back to him.

"Yes," she nodded gravely before he could speak, "the darkness has returned."

Next to arrive was Radagast, who brought his rabbit-drawn sled to a stop next to them. "Gandalf, climb on!" the brown wizard shouted with urgency, his eyes directed nervously toward the battle waged around them.

"He has been weakened by the blackest of magic." Gandalf heard Galadriel tell the new arrival as she brought him onto the sled, "He can not remain here. Take him away, quickly!"

While he more than understood the reasoning, Gandalf refused to leave and caught her arm pleadingly, "No my Lady." he strenuously exhaled, "I cannot leave yet... for there is a matter of greatest import... that can no longer wait."

Galadriel was about to argue the point and demand for Radagast to depart, when the battle with the Nine ended with astonishing abruptness, and the Eye of Sauron emerged as though from the horizon in a storm of demonic fire. "It has begun!" the dark lord declared darkly to his startled audience in the black speech, "The East will fall. So shall the Kingdom of Angmar rise. The Age of the Elves is over. The Age of the Orc has come. All shall bow to the New Age, in this world and beyond."

A shudder of recognition ran up Gandalf's spine as tendrils made out of the darkest shadows of the world surged from the eye and threatened to envelop them all, so powerful that the ancient masonry crumbled and splintered where the tendrils touched. One broken brick newly launched by accident or design took Radagast by surprise as he was about to urge his rabbits to get going, and bowled the brown wizard over.

Seeing this, fury took Galadriel and she brought from her robes a single holy phial that beat back the shadows with its light before she even imparted her might upon it. When she did, its radiance became like a star and flooded the unholy bastion with warm light and vanquished the sea of tendrils completely. But nothing of this display compared to Galadriel herself who exuded such power that even Saruman quailed before her. "You have no power here, Servant of Morgoth!" Galadriel intoned so her voice boomed as she through the phial attacked Sauron directly, "You are formless. Nameless. Begone from whence you came!"

Fierce was the struggle that followed, as Sauron and Galadriel fought a bitter battle of will so terrible in its fury that Dol Guldur was shaken to its foundations. Yet last for long it did not, for it was not yet time for the dark lord in his current state to contend with the likes of Galadriel. So it was in a brilliant wave of light that Sauron amid a dark howl let go and withdrew from the castle and vanished.

Having thrown Sauron away, the exhausted Galadriel dropped onto a knee and fell against Elrond who was quick to lend her his support. "We have been deceived." he whispered solemnly.

"The spirit of Sauron endured." Galadriel exchanged a sad look with them.

Saruman was more dismissive, as was his tendency, "And has been banished."

"For now..." she closed her eyes, "He will flee into the east."

"Gondor... should be warned." Elrond's voice turned steely with every apparent intent to travel to this southern Kingdom himself in spite of his own grievances concerning the race of men, "They must set a watch on the walls of Mordor."

"No." Saruman said resolutely, "You must tend to Lady Galadriel, for she has spent much of her power and her strength is failing. Take her to Lothlórien."

"My lord Saruman. We cannot wait overlong." the half-elf protested sternly, "He must be hunted down and destroyed once and for all."

"Oh, I could not agree more." Radagast quipped breathlessly far in the back as he recovered from the earlier blow, and for his effort earned a stern glare from the white wizard. To his credit, he was not overly bothered by it. "But is there no one concerned with the dark lord's emphasis on... you know..." he quirked a bushy brow, "'This world and beyond'?"

Gandalf crinkled a small smile at that piece of observation, another reminder that Radagast was far wiser than his eccentric countenance usually implied.

"Valinor, no doubt. Foolish words and nothing more." Saruman shook his head, completely indifferent, "It speaks well for how far gone Sauron is, for no one passes into the Undying Lands but elves and those with the Valar's blessing."

"You speak the truth, Saruman the White..." Galadriel hitched and shuddered as she took her gaze off the horizon and looked onto the sled-ridden wizard, "Yet... Valinor may not be what the dark one meant... Mithrandir, what you needed to tell onto us with such urgency... does it concern this?"

"It does, my fair Lady." Gandalf gave a grim nod, "Behold..." and without mincing further words opened his mind to them. With great immediacy did he sense surprise from every one of them, even the unflappable Elrond and Saruman, as the image of H'anigi Tohl asserted itself in their thoughts... along with the conversation the company and she engaged in upon their first encounter. Everything Sauron gleamed from his memories by force, he now showed almost eagerly to his long-time friends and allies.

Needless to say, the assembly of fellow ancients were stunned by the knowledge.

"I cannot believe it." Elrond whispered in what bordered on shock, his gaze fixed on the female miqo'te's image, "For other worlds to exist. For there to exist upon Arda the means to cross over into these other worlds... Why did not the old songs tell us of this?"

"Because these Aetherytes are not of this world." Gandalf explained of what was his hypothesis on the matter, "I can only guess that some time, long ago, travelers came here from the world of Hydaelyn and placed an unknown number of these Aetherytes across Middle-Earth without anyone's knowledge."

Radagast frowned as he brushed some leftover dirt from his beard, "What do you suppose their reasons were?"

"I know not," Gandalf shrugged, "but suspect said reasons have long since become irrelevant. What is relevant however..."

"Is that Sauron now covets them." Galadriel haltingly finished for him, realizing more and more the implications even as she struggled to stay awake. "He desires this other world."

"And the means to redeploy his forces effortlessly to any place, at a moment's notice." Saruman noted thoughtfully.

Elrond cursed softly in elvish as he processed this, "Which means we too must covet these Aetherytes for our own use, and for safe-keeping."

"That... is precisely what I suggest we do." Gandalf concurred, "We must contact all who will listen, and conduct a search across the free lands."

"Many will find all this difficult to believe." Radagast cautioned.

"Yet it must be done."

"I concur." Saruman agreed, with the expression of someone who just swallowed something greatly sour, "We must do all we can for the safety of Middle-Earth, but for now let us focus on what we must do now." and looked to Elrond then Radagast in a pointed manner.

"Of course." Gandalf coughed his agreement in due turn, "I for one must make my return to Thorin's company. Sauron knows there may be an Aetheryte in Erebor, and as such it need to be secured into the dwarves' hands soonest possible more than ever."

"Yes, about that..." Radagast commented absently as he looked at a strangely excited bird that sang as it flew past, "It would seem that Smaug has been driven from the Lonely Mountain altogether somehow."

That got Gandalf's attention, "Did it mention how?"

"No, only that the dragon was greatly hurt by the time he fled from Erebor." the brown wizard mused perplexedly, "Do you know what could have gone and done that?"

"Frankly," he weakly grimaced, "I have not even the foggiest notion. Erebor could not possess a weapon capable of such a thing, or it would never have fallen in the first place."

"All the more important for you to depart Mithrandir, before Sauron picks up yet more advantages." Galadriel murmured, "Make haste, friend."

"Yes, do that." Saruman growled, "Radagast, it is about time you and Gandalf take your leave. And for pity's sake find him a new staff while at it."

Radagast shrugged as he took up position on the sled, "I can do that. Hang on Gandalf."

And he did so the best he was able after a faint wave of farewell as the brown wizard with a jerk of the reins made the rabbits spring into action. The last he heard from those quickly left behind followed as such: "And what do we do about Sauron himself?" Elrond demanded.

Saruman's solemn reply was prompt, "Leave him to me."

"Now how did you navigate these ruins anyway, Radagast?" Gandalf mused as his ride progressed rapidly, and took several sharp turns along the way that most would have thought of as... impossible. It was quite harrowing really, particularly as they approached at high speed what might once have been a bridge, only now with enough wide holes to make it seem more like a set of pillars placed far apart. Enough to cause the sled-ridden gray wizard some pause.

"Improvisation, speed," Radagast replied evenly, "and a little bit of luck. Hup!"

Gandalf's opinion on the matter could be summarized thus: "Oh dear."

 _OoOoO_

When Bard next woke, by which time dawn had belatedly come, it was with a thunderous headache. Considering how much worse it could have been as he was by the force in Smaug's cry of pain flung from where he had stood on a dwelling's roof, this little bit of pain did not even warrant a complaint.

Instead he focused on where he was, on a boat being brought to the shore by a band of rugged men armed with bows. Survivors from the battle.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" he heard the nearest fellow, a gray-bearded old man, ask concernedly, "You had a really tough landing, Bard."

"Nothing I can't handle, Hans." Bard sighed as he sat up and groggily rubbed his head, remembering the name of the old hunter, "Where is Smaug now?"

"You hear that, men?" Hans laughed to the others, "The bargeman's not nearly done with the dragon yet."

"Bard's of the line of Girion," a haggard fellow grinned like it made all the sense in the world, "so of course he isn't. Fought to the last breath his forefather did to drive off the dragon, and what he started, Bard finished."

"If only the beast had died, it'd be even better."

Another joined eagerly, "If he hasn't already, hurt as the dragon was I reckon the bastard keeled over somewhere out there."

"Don't tempt fate," Bard sighed, "it might just decide to prove you wrong. Instead let us help our people, for there will be many hard days ahead."

"Aye." they all replied in near-unison.

While the dragon was indeed driven away, the damage had been done. Most of Lake-town has collapsed beneath the waves, and made its denizens homeless. People in their hundreds filled the vista ahead from the shore to hills further up, all of them either milling about almost aimlessly as they looked for friends and loved ones, or mourning from the losses Smaug had inflicted on them.

Bard disembarked as they hit land, and ignored the coldness of the waters as he waded ashore and committed himself to search until a nearby commotion drew his attention, along with plenty of ire soon as he found the source of it.

That source being no other than Alfrid, who argued petulantly with a woman for the blanket she carried, which she had no intention of handing over. Frustrated by her refusal, he attempted to take the blanket by force.

Yeah, he wouldn't let that come to pass.

So Bard went and quickly grabbed the pathetic weasel of a man by the wrist before he could strike her with it, "Right now," he growled, in barely veiled fury, watching as Alfrid's sullen face turned a shade paler, "I wouldn't be turning on your own, Alfrid. Not now."

Without a beat, he span the man in place and applied a foot against the ankle so Alrid fell hard on his back.

"Dad!"

For an absent second Bard wondered how many times more they would be reunited like this before he turned from the scum with a relieved cry in Tilda's name accepted the gladdened girl into his arms, along with an equally relieved Sigrid besides. "It's alright, darling." he hugged them tightly, and shared a smile with Bain who had come out in the girls' wake. "We're here, alive and well."

"It was Bard!" Percy, one of the town's toll men called aloud to the people, "He fought the beast off, I saw it with my own eyes!"

And naturally, this announcement had to be carried out right at this precious moment. And like they were summoned, people flocked in from every direction to better hear what Percy said. "Sent him away with but a single black arrow!"

"He led us," Hans who remained nearby shouted in continuation, "when no one else dared to!"

Bard was forced to recall the Master's ship, and that his cohorts who elected to flee with the gold included the Captain himself. Lake-town's warriors were left leaderless because of this. Between the timing of this announcement and not knowing whether the Master and Captain made it out, Bard settled his expression into one of moroseness though he kept it relatively mild as all around him people cheered at the news. Many dozens of people closed in from all around, with a couple hundred more on the way and showered him with praise and cries of gratitude.

"Thank you!"

"You saved us all!"

"Bless you!"

But of course there is no party without one to break the mood. A role served by a tactless Alfrid as he took Bard's arm and thrust it into the air, "All hail King Bard!" Needless to say, the cheer vanished instantly.

With disgust, Bard pulled his arm from the mewling man's grip, but he did not seem to pick up on the abruptly foul mood. "I've said it many times!" he blatantly lied with a forced cheer, "This man is of a noble stock! A born leader!"

"Do not call me that." Bard growled, "I am not the Master of this town. Where is he?!"

An aging woman stepped forth, "Dead or halfway down the Anduin – with all the gold I don't doubt." and leveled a finger accusingly at Alfrid, "You helped him empty the treasury."

"No," Alfrid shook his head, "I tried to stop him!"

It did not at all help his case, because people knew how much of a treacherous worm he is. Rather than apologize he made excuses till the villagers would hear him no longer and swarmed in to take him to a nearby tree, with every intent to see him hanged. While Bard did not at all care about the sniveling man, he decided this was taking it too far.

"Let him go!" he called loudly over the many voices of condemnation, and was surprised at how quickly the riot stopped. He continued regardless, "Look around you! Have you not had your fill of death?!"

Bard waited a scarce moment, "Winter is upon us. We must look to our own, to the sick and the helpless. Those who can stand, tend to the wounded. Those who have strength, follow me – we must salvage what we can."

"What then?!" the woman Alfrid had tried to steal from asked, "What will we do then?"

More softly, he replied, "We find shelter." and made way to the shore and found himself followed by almost the entire village. Whether he wanted it or not, they already saw him as their leader.

 _OoOoO_

Back when H'anigi fainted, she deep inside figured the thing to stir her from the deep sleep she expected to come would be a terrible nightmare. Given what she experienced those hours before that moment, it was at least a reasonable assumption... that ultimately proved to be quite wrong. Instead what followed her loss of consciousness was utter nothingness.

There was no dream at all... only an inscrutable silence that felt as though poised to be everlasting.

So instead of a nightmare, what prodded the miqo'te into the waking world was instead a hollow sensation that grew till it all but overwhelmed her. And so the eventuality came where H'anigi could stand it no longer and snapped her eyes open, whereupon she discovered just what was wrong.

Her stomach was to an almost painful extent empty.

"What a way to wake up..." H'anigi drawled as she pulled herself free from an ancient and worn but eminently usable bed, and took in her current surroundings – a dwarven bedroom by all accounts, and probably used to be quite homely back in the day before the place got abandoned, then caked by dust and cobwebs.

Not about to stay put any longer, she pulled open its heavy door and wandered out across the hallway beyond at a laborious pace till she found what was perhaps the dwarven equivalent of a living room. It was empty except for a great number of lined-up chairs, a long table, and upon it a fair amount of used cups and scraps of food that testified to a recent dinner. This included a plate of meat that looked like it had been left to turn cold.

Not about to care at this junction about the food's readiness, H'anigi snatched up the plate and had the meat upon it and whatever else lay available take its proper place within her. "I feel alive again~" she cooed after the swift conclusion of her meal and subsequently took a half-full mug of water to slake her thirst.

Now if only this place included a bath, then her 'morning' would be complete.

Determined to see if that might be the case, she left the chair and room to embark on further a tour of the place that after several rooms culminated in a peculiarly built but well-equipped area that most visibly included a tub-like depression in the granite floor with what appeared to be a plug at the bottom, and a channel that ran up to... a fireplace of sorts, freshly stowed with what wood the dwarves had gathered sometime during her untimely... coma, perhaps.

It made her momentarily wonder for how long she slept, before the thought was shaken off in favor of trying to see how this whole thing here worked. H'anigi walked up to the stove and opened a rounded lid on the top side to find it was at least a quarter full with water by the looks of it. Enough to adequately fill the tub.

Intrigued, she closed it and went on to get this thing started. H'anigi threw in some of the tinder that lay nearby, then used the flint and fire striker besides to finally light a fire that quickly took to the wood, then blew on it for good measure. She then sat back to wait until the room turned comfortably hot before she rose and checked the water through the aforedescribed lid.

It was pleasingly warm, just a few steps short of steamy.

Encouraged by the success, she opened the mouth of the channel and let the water pour into the tub. And not about to waste this boon, H'anigi after a quick look to the door proceeded to undress and discarded the clothing into a steadily growing pile before she, fully bare, lowered herself slowly into the rapidly filling tub and released once she was shoulder-deep a long drawn-out moan that was positively euphoric.

"Oh~" H'anigi reclined with a broad smile, "By the Twelve, it's been way too long."

"Now... all I need is a..." the busty marauder continued, and started on a turn when she spotted an old-looking brush close at hand and raised her brow in appreciation, "Well, I'll be damned."

She took it and went through with the long process of cleaning and grooming herself from the tail and feet and up, all while she softly hummed to an old bar tune, glad to finally be rid of many days worth of sweat and grime. All of that would somewhat be for naught though if she did not clean her clothes while at it. Thus, once H'anigi deemed herself suitably clean, she pulled herself out and searched the lone delipidated closet that sat in the corner, and was glad to find a serviceable washboard, which she took back to the tub, brought the clothes, and put them in the still-warm bath water.

Eager to get the vile-smelling articles back up to an acceptable standard, she soaked and rubbed each piece of clothing vigorously against the washboard, with special care to be absolutely thorough though some of the long since dried-up blood on the shirt and simply refused to come off – courtesy of the time she had an arm thrust deep into Smaug's eye. Something she just had to accept as she pulled out one clean length of cloth after another to wring the water out of and put aside till she eventually was done.

By then the water had turned quite filthy, naturally.

H'anigi did not at all favor wading into it to pull the plug, and checked the closet yet again for something to help with that little issue, and found an iron stick with a blunt hook at the end.

"Hoh, those who used to live here really thought of everything." the miqo'te commented mirthfully as she took it, "I suppose that's why this place was chosen." and returned to the tub to put this tool to good use, and removed the plug without any further fuss. "There we go."

All that remained for now was to hang up her clothes and wait for them and herself to dry. H'anigi thus picked up the pile of articles and hanged them onto the convenient rail that ran along the wall before she then stretched herself out in front of the still crackling fireplace and quietly luxuriated at the warmth it radiated plentifully.

"I wonder how long it'll take for them to get back." H'anigi mumbled to herself before she did all she could do at this juncture: To settle down, take patience for company, and wait.

 _OoOoO_

Another evening had come. It did not show this deep in the mountain, but the bodies of those who currently wandered its halls felt it weigh heavily on their exhausted bodies. Ever since Smaug fled the region, Thorin had relegated to all of them whenever possible the task of finding the Arkenstone. A search that has so far been fruitless.

Dwalin complained about it not at all knowing fully the importance of its finding. Instead he worried about Thorin who has been like a brother to him since their childhood. Between them they shared a special bond they had with no one else.

Having known Thorin for so long, the moment when he held a sword to Bilbo's chest had been shocking... but thankfully brief as he quickly snapped back to his senses. Dwalin concluded back then that it was desperation that pushed him so far, but lately he had grown to be not so sure. For as the Arkenstone continued to elude them, Thorin only grew more intent on finding it – bordering on an obsession.

It needed to be found, Dwalin understood, but hoped it would not deliver his friend to madness in the process.

The rumination of his promptly ended as Bifur up ahead pushed open the door to the domicile Glóin had chosen for all of them. It was a mansion by all accounts, and large enough to house an extended family of considerable size. Perfect for housing them all in other words. And in spite of long abandonment, some of the furniture remained in serviceable condition.

Soon as they entered, Óin split off without a word to check on H'anigi who probably remained comatose.

"Gather up." Thorin declared as he took a seat by the table.

Dwalin was tired, as they all were, but he slumped onto a chair all the same – eager to get the daily debrief over with. Soon as their leader was about to start though, Óri with thunderous steps returned to them. "She's gone!" he shouted.

"What?" Glóin stood so his chair fell away, just one of many startled reactions.

Bilbo who had on their trip back been the most silent rose and demanded sharply; "What do you mean 'gone'?!"

"She must have awakened while we were away." Óin stated what was obvious to all of them in professional concern, "Durin's beard, she could be out trying to find us for all we know. At worst..."

"At worst... what?" a door was kicked open to reveal a squeaky clean and slightly amused H'anigi dressed in just her pants, boots, and sweater, "Thal's balls, calm yourselves the heck down. I'm right here."

"Damn girl..." breathed Balin closed-eyed in relief, "We've been worried about you."

"Sorry for the trouble." the miqo'te scratched her head as she paced to the table, her tail swishing animatedly, "For how long was I out?"

"... H'anigi, you have been sleeping for five days."

 _OoOoO_

"Oh." H'anigi dropped her look of amusement in favor of shock, "I was aware I've been unconscious for a while, but not that long."

"Better a few days than forever." Glóin commented reassuringly, "You looked as though dead down there."

"And the timing could not be better." their leader declared as he steepled his fingers, "Now that you are up and about, I believe it is about time you explain what happened in the mines, of what the mechanisms flitting about the entry hall now are."

H'anigi smiled grimly, "I suppose an explanation's in order."

"Then by all means," Thorin spread his hands, "Take a seat."

And she did so without aplomb, aware that every dwarf and hobbit now watched her with anticipation.

"First, before you start," the dwarf leader stated, "I must thank you for your intervention on my behalf. Was it not fo-"

"About that." H'anigi cut through the gratitude, not at all glad to recall that particular incident, "I did not at all do that on my own volition."

A look of confusion passed between those assembled, Thorin especially as he blinked, bewildered and unsure how to react to that piece of information.

"Thinking back, it did seem... odd..." Glóin narrowed his eyes speculatively, "Was it the nasty spell by any chance?"

"Aye..." she shuddered at the memory and nodded, "Upon seeing Smaug's positioning relative to my own, the entity behind the spell decided to take full control of me. I was made to jump, chop the dragon's eye in twain, and stuff my arm into the socket so it could extend the spell onto Smaug."

"I'm guess that's where all the blood came from." Óin grimaced.

H'anigi showed the dried splotches of blood she could not wash off from the sweater, "Yeah... the spellbinding was a success, and through me Smaug was made to travel to an area within the mines and do a quick dig through a seemingly random wall to reveal within it a chamber..."

"You mean a cave?" Balin asked for clarification.

"A chamber." she corrected with a shake of her head, "A very much artificial, very square, and very elaborately constructed chamber. Within I encountered the entity responsible-"

"What kind of entity?"

"Um... it's... some kind of machine I guess. It referred to itself as 'Guidance Node' in any case."

"Machine?" Bofur mouthed.

"And about the magic it put on you..." Glóin pointed out in obvious concern, "Is it still-"

H'anigi raised her hands, "All gone. Soon as I was made to arrive at the chamber, it was no longer needed."

"So that's where it wanted you to go...?"

"That's the case, aye."

"Why?" Thorin asked, "For what reason would this 'Guidance Node' require your presence?"

"... Because there's an Aetheryte within that chamber, a dormant one in need of repair." she pushed on even as the whole bunch of dwarves gasped, "Something the Guidance Node could not do on its own."

"Wait." the dwarf leader's mouth had dropped open agape from shock as that particular information sank in. "I do not understand. Was not the Arkenstone an Aetheryte... or do we now have two on our hands?"

"Neither, I'm afraid." she took a deep breath, knowing what was to come would not sit well with Thorin in particular, "While I'm no expert concerning the inner workings of Aetherytes, a look inside its pedestal told me all I needed to know." and hesitated momentarily, "The thing you revere so highly, the Arkenstone, is the final machine component that's been missing and must be slotted into the Aetheryte to activate it."

And as expected, Thorin's expression darkened severely in a manner all too familiar. Having seen his dark side concerning the Arkenstone, she had a feeling it would rear its head, but knowing it would happen made it no easier to experience. Balin among others also spotted the storm brewing and hastened to slightly change the subject:

"Did you find out anything else?" the old dwarf asked, "About the mechanism that chased Smaug through the mountain, and the chamber besides?"

"More than I care to know." H'anigi solemnly replied, "It, those, the Aetherytes, the Arkenstone. All of those were products of my world, built by an ancient civilization that at one time dominated all of Hydaelyn. An ancient civilization I only know about because one of my former shipmates used to be a scholar from a place called Sharlayan told me about it once in passing."

She did not say the reason he told her, that being a haul that included some really fancy tomestones that were somewhat different from the one she now carried. Not knowing that bit, the company clung to her words with the kind of interest one would associate with the anticipation of hearing a story never told before.

"It was called the Allagan Empire." she continued, "A nation that existed more than five thousand years ago, and upon that time held all of Hydaelyn with an iron fist. It was said to be utterly unstoppable, able to slaughter dragons and gods alike – both of which lay as powerless before them as sheep before giants of rock and fury. When it moved, kingdoms died."

"Having seen those wee little machines at work," Bombur shuddered and brought up a handkerchief to remedy a shock of sweat, "I find that easy to believe."

Agreements, nervous or grim, were passed all around.

"Likewise." H'anigi nodded, "The Allagans had a mastery of magical technology that superseded all civilizations before and since..."

"And they used that to eventually found a way, somehow, to cross over into other world, huh." Fili reclined on his chair and muttered, "But why would they even bother doing that?"

"That part, is so exceedingly obvious I'm surprised you haven't figured it out already." Balin grumbled to the younger dwarf in pungent disbelief, "Such nations are always out to grab more territory for itself, consequently if they could reach other worlds, they would attempt to conquer them."

"And that was their plan." H'anigi agreed somberly, "From what I learned down there, the Allagans placed an unknown number of Aetherytes across the Middle-Earth. Upon the completion of this network, the Allagans most likely planned to launch an enormous world-wide invasion aimed to take on all the realms simultaneously. Unable to support one another and assaulted from everywhere at once, the native kingdoms would irrevocably have fallen in short order."

"You paint a most terrifying picture, H'anigi." Dwalin growled, a little pale, "Had it happened, those of us alive now would have likely been slaves, never knowing anything else. Nevertheless... it didn't. What happened?"

"The Empire weren't monolithic and included rebellious elements opposed to their tyranny. Guidance Node said that a rebel stole away the crystal your people came to refer to as the Arkenstone and collapsed a tunnel upon himself to keep the Aetheryte dormant. I've no idea if this also happened elsewhere, but it put a dent on the schedules during what was probably a critical time."

Balin leaned a little closer, "And what do you suppose happened?"

"Well... given that the Empire's no longer around," H'anigi shrugged, "I'm guessing that was the time of its belated collapse. I honestly have no idea how that came to pass, only that it happened. All that remains of the Allagans now are their creations." and pointed out, "So there's no longer any need to fear an invasion, and it's perfectly safe to get that Aetheryte back up in order."

"Maybe it is so." Thorin muttered as he pushed his chair away and stood in an almost slovenly manner, the embers in his eyes not yet quenched, "But as of yet we have not acquired the Arkenstone, and before you joined us we were about to debrief. Instead, given the lateness of the hour, I will provide our respective tasks for tomorrow." he pointed at her, "You will with Dwalin and Bifur go out to hunt for food. Can you do that?"

Word by word it sounded agreeable, but the tone didn't, and made her tail droop between the legs. "Did you ju-" H'anigi started to object.

"Our food stores are running low again. Can you perform the task given, H'anigi Tohl?" Thorin demanded pointedly.

She fumed at the irascible dwarf, "Yes."

Thorin nodded brusquely, "Good. The rest of us will continue the search. That is all." and without a single further word turned on his heel and left the room in stony and disbelieving silence.

 _OoOoO_

"What was that?"

Thorin had just left the living room door behind when Balin too came, his words absolutely frigid. While the manner of tone the kindhearted old dwarf had suddenly taken to was startlingly different from that of his usual demeanor, Thorin brushed it off and sneered frankly, "I want her nowhere near the Arkenstone."

"You can't possibly suspect that she intends to steal it..." Balin growled, "After all that have happened?"

"Why not?" Thorin returned in cold anger, "For all we know, that Aetheryte's in perfectly working order and she's just waiting for a chance to take the Arkenstone for herself. Even if she didn't, would it ever be returned to us? Would those damnable mechanisms let us retrieve it? Would the contraption that transported her allow us to pass?"

"To that we won't know until we try. Maybe if..."

But he wouldn't have it. "The Arkenstone... is mine..." Thorin said steelily, "I will not let anyone else have it."

"Old friend, be reasonable." Balin pleaded.

"This conversation is over." he demanded as the other dwarves came through, "Get some rest. We got much work in the day to come."

 _OoOoO_

Far as Bilbo – among others – was concerned, H'anigi's awakening from her little exhaustion-induced coma was supposed to be a moment to savor and celebrate. But now, after what they all now knew, his skin had turned pale, and then green with nausea and he only wanted to get away in fear that he would buckle under the merest look into her eyes.

That had very nearly turned to be the case when their eyes briefly met at the end of the meeting, and he saw hers widen in concern at the sickly look he adopted so suddenly before an apologetic Dwalin pulled on her attention.

He used that to file out with the others and made for his room, where he closed the door and threw himself beneath the blanket of his assigned bed. And under this cover, he unfurled the bundle of cloth from the bag he used for a pillow to reveal a peerless crystal of brilliant starlight.

During his initial flight from Smaug, he had unknown to everyone else managed to find and pocket the Arkenstone. Bilbo had at first fully intended to deliver it onto Thorin, only to be stunned when the dwarf leader suddenly threatened to run him through if he had failed to find the Arkenstone, or had found but decided to withhold it.

After all that happened, he now feared how Thorin would react if he after all the hassle decided to hand it over, and feared what would happen if Thorin did get his hands on it given his slow descent into wicked greed and paranoia - the latter all too clearly shown by how he decided to treat the miqo'te. A fear supplemented by a wave of regret and guilt so strong that he very nearly fell ill when H'anigi brought up her findings, and revealed the Arkenstone's needed in making the newly uncovered Aetheryte whole.

Her home was just one component from being laid open... yet remain closed it would because Bilbo in his selfish shame realized that he did not at all trust her to not leave once the Aetheryte's active. He did not want her to leave at all. Not yet at least, or so he told himself.

"Some friend I am..." Bilbo whispered as he gazed emptily into the gleaming crystal.

Then someone's hand fell on the door.

Bilbo hurriedly packed up the Arkenstone and shoved it into the bag, then shoved it in turn under his head. "Y-yes?"

"Are you alright?" he heard H'anigi ask gently.

"Nothing's wrong." he lied, and felt the burden on his shoulders grow all the heavier.

"You looked awful back there. Are you sure?"

"I'm just tired, is all." Bilbo pressed miserably, "Nothing some sleep can't cure."

"Okay... take care, Bilbo." she accepted.

He murmured a "Later." and buried his face in the makeshift pillow as a depression reared its ugly head.

* * *

 **Author notes:** As has been the trend, this included passages from both the film and the book mixed together. In the movie, the black arrow was large enough that it needed a ballista to shoot it, while in the book Bard needed no more than a great bow. Chose to favor the book in this instance. Oh, and I decided for Smaug to survive and see LotR in this story.

Oh, and many thanks for the reviews.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Onto the Mountain**

* * *

Having been comatose for just two days short of a whole week, H'anigi was too far into the waking world to entertain even the vaguest notion of a nap anytime soon unlike the exhausted dwarves and hobbit who prepared to sleep so soon after her story had been told, consequently rendering her increasingly alone to decide on what to do to pass time. Faced with the decision on whether to just sit on her tush in wait for the morning to come, H'anigi decided to go outside and retrieved what clothes she hadn't put on yet, retrieved the pickaxe, and headed out after a quick question offered to the very sleepy but still up and cooperative Bifur who in his own way pointed to markers that had been thoughtfully laid down for those who did not innately know Erebor's layout.

With care she cautiously followed the trail that would lead her to the outer gates, accompanied only by the obnoxious thunder of her own bootsteps. Everywhere did this largely empty kingdom seem to possess incredible acoustics.

It was a lonely trudge that was belatedly joined by the idle clink of crystals as she entered a grand hall and at last found where the machines Guidance Node sent to chase Smaug had ended up. She figured they'd return to the chamber down below, but it would seem there was an imperative to safeguard the only apparent entrance that overgrown lizard could push its enormous frame through.

A choice probably taken for her benefit. It wouldn't do to lose the only person to come by after five thousand years of wait, able to finally get that Aetheryte up and running.

For a moment she simply watched the mechanisms as they patrolled across a small but elaborate orbit, not once impeding one another, before she plucked from its pocket the tomestone given to her and held it up.

H'anigi did it simply on a curious whim to examine the thing, then blinked curiously when it glistened as if shone upon... and prompted a reaction. She looked up as one of the bulbous machines suddenly disengaged from its patrol and descended to meet her.

"Hello?" she probed for an answer.

It just bobbed disinterestedly, and swung in a broad orbit around her that quickly degraded until it stopped to hover a couple of feet off her right shoulder.

"A bodyguard, huh?" H'anigi quipped in her mild surprise, "How sweet. Do you have a name?"

 _Bits..._ the flat tone of Guidance Node rumbled from the tomestone. _Combat Drones of Allag. Placed into widespread usage after extensive tests in Azys Lla Research Faci-_

"Right, right." H'anigi interrupted, interest instantly gone, as she pocketed the tomestone and with the Bit in tow strolled through the great door that the rest of them guarded and entered such a darkened outside world that she quickly learned to appreciate the Bit's presence, as the illumination it provided by coincidence or design gave light to the surroundings.

"Protector and lamp both?" she provided an oblique glance to it and teased: "My hero."

"Can you per chance transfigurate into a dashing miqo'te stud?"

Its silence indicated a 'no'.

"And here I thought you could do everything." H'anigi with playfully displayed petulance kicked a small pebble into the distance, "Would have made passing time until morning a whole lot easier in any case."

Once again, it offered no thoughts or opinion if ever one or both existed within that little shell.

"Like a miniature Bifur. He doesn't talk much either."

It did not provide a response.

"Welp, I might just as well find a place to relax in till dawn."

H'anigi searched along the walls a small while, and found a suitable if cool corner where the wind didn't reach. Elegantly she laid herself across it and closed her eyes. No sleep came, only the vague sense of time passing slowly along until, when chance came, the very faintest hint of sunlight reached wistfully from the horizon.

"Oi!" she eventually heard a wary Dwalin shout, "Are you out there, H'anigi?"

With a little stiffness that she quickly worked out of her limbs, H'anigi got up and moved into the open where she found the dwarves right at the door, Bifur anxiously looking up over his shoulders at the hurdle they left behind – the Bits apparently an object of fear to them. "Ahoy, I'm over here." she held up a hand and called out.

Dwalin looked relieved at having braved that hurdle, along with the sight of her, until the Bit companion of hers hovered into view. Instantly did the big tough dwarf look like a mouse trapped between two cats. A sentiment the usually silent Bifur heartily shared. "Er..." Dwalin stood agape, pointing at the thing.

"You need not fear it, honest." H'anigi affirmed amusedly, "It's just a bodyguard the bunch of them lended to me, sort of."

Visibly did Dwalin turn less green and approached, if with a healthy amount of caution, "Damn it lass. You and your antics, I swear..."

She folded her arms in faked indignance, "Welp, excuse me."

"Let's just get going." Dwalin sighed, and threw what appeared at first to be a long stake at her, "Here, picked this one up for you."

With practiced agility she caught the offered tool and found it to be a long handled single-edge axe of decidedly dwarven make. It was fully made of gray-colored metal which naturally made it heavier than the one she lost, but perfectly balanced otherwise.

"Thanks." she offered while the dwarves strolled past, and holstered the new weapon of hers as she turned to follow.

"Pray don't mention it."

With this, they ventured into the part of wilderness that was so firmly wedged between Erebor and Dale before Dwalin led them up the huge hill to the left. It was odd to see Dale from this angle, somewhat, but it looked sort of crunched in parts – a fact particularly visible in the areas they all traversed in their initial approach.

The trail of this recent destruction made it all too apparent what happened, so she bothered not to inquire.

Or at least, she did not express surprise till they reached the top and she looked back down, across the lands, to the south, and found down at the lake a perspectively tiny but clearly diminished Lake-town – much of the settlement gone from sight.

"Aye," Dwalin followed her line of sight sadly, "With us not providing easy enough sport for Smaug's liking, the bastard went and threw his weight around Lake-town instead. Luckily they managed to send the bastard packing before the battle got any worse for them."

H'anigi raised a brow back at him, "Why did you not break this to me earlier?"

"Didn't come up, and the most saddened of those who saw it happen has locked himself in with grief. We wished not to plunge him deeper... so we kept quiet."

"You're talking about Bilbo," she realized, "aren't you?"

"Aye. Balin, Fili and Kili went with him to an outlook over yonder, but he took upon himself the lion's share for the blame."

Her chest tightened with quiet sympathy, "That's why he looked so miserable."

"Afraid so." Dwalin sighed, before he turned to Bifur who has taken to gesticulate wildly, "Now come on. Bifur's spotted something."

H'anigi did not reply with a single world as she watched the devastation. "If only you and your fellow Bit had killed Smaug then and there." she whispered to the machine that still hovered over her idly, unaffected by the scenery.

With a heavy heart she made a move to follow Dwalin, but stopped halfway when something that looked like no more than a little spot at this distance vaguely shone with an unnatural golden radiance as the sunlight met it emerged from Mirkwood, something so out of place that H'anigi simply stood there and gaped. And when finally she found the words to speak, she could not quite keep the incomprehension from her voice, "Dwalin?"

"Yes?" the currently inattentive dwarf asked with the implied quirking of his bushy brows.

"What in the world is that?"

Silence was what met her as Dwalin peered again at the south, and examined the sheen that so pierced the green, "Durin's Beard..." he swore, "Elves in full armor. An army of them."

 _OoOoO_

Days have gone by since Lake-town's destruction, and Bard could plainly see the downward spiral they were locked into as he wandered through what was for all intents and purposes a refugee camp that reached a fair distance across the lake's western edge where the survivors of Smaug's rampage huddled together for what little warmth they could find. Every attempt to salvage from Lake-town's wreckage, along with every effort to hunt, fish, and forage for food across the surrounding wilderness only drove home the precariousness of their situation. They got some cattle, but that was it, and those could not simply be butchered out of hand.

Anywhere else they looked, only contemptible winter could be found, ever eager to press its point.

Fortunately, for all it was worth, some progress has been made on the matter of shelter. Men skilled at craft worked hard to fell trees, and used these to build huts north from their destroyed village with every intent to build a new Lake-town. A goodhearted effort sadly doomed to failure if they can't do something about the current resource scarcity. They are low on food, among many other commodities, and people are still dying every night as sickness and wounds surmounted their wills to survive.

Everyone who could tried to do their part. Whether it be to manage cattle, to hunt, to fish, or assist in any number of labors being undertaken. His daughters currently assisted the wounded, while Bain helped the craftsmen. Bard on his own part prepared to disembark onto the lake with a few other fellows for another attempt at salvage from Esgaroth's ruin.

That is, before one of the hunters who set out earlier approached the beach at a frenzied dash, "Lord Bard!"

Subtly did Bard suppress the urge to roll his eyes, having more or less accepted his role as the township's new leader – though he still cringed at how people insisted on attaching titles to his name. "What is it?" he asked, noting to himself the man's urgency.

"Elves!" the astonished hunter proclaimed, "The elves are coming!"

To that, many around them reacted with excitement. Bard didn't, his feelings incredibly mixed considering how much of the recent turmoil took place because of events an elf helped facilitate. "How many?"

"A legion of them, sire. And I believe I saw the Elven King among them, sitting astride an elk greater than any I have ever seen in my life."

"King Thranduil's coming here?!" Bard started in disbelief and looked to the west as two possibilities asserted themselves in his thoughts. The first was the possibility that the King heard of Lake-town's sorry state and decided to come and provide relief. The second, on the other hand, was too terrible to contemplate in full though it would indeed be perfectly in line with their horrid luck as of late.

With effort he pushed the negativity from his mind and put his full focus and hope on the first possibility.

Bard thanked the man for the information and made his way up through the camp at a brisk pace as a commotion started to grow from the news circulating, and belatedly learned how close the people of the forest had come. For no sooner did he clear the increasingly crowded western edge of the camp before he encountered them.

Never had he seen so many elves in one place, the terrain and hills ahead covered in gold-armored warriors who stood still as statues. Bard stared wide-eyed at the multitude of immortals and was thankful when there came a break in the formation, and a path widened in the midst of it that stretched toward his position.

And from this path appeared King Thranduil himself, mounted on an incredible elk which antlers stretched far and wide. He was followed close behind by his son, and the elven woman – who looked decidedly uncomfortable – he had to blame for much of which had befallen Lake-town, and a gathering of honor guards who all rode upon beautiful white-coated horses.

"My Lord Thranduil..." Bard said, trying desperately to find the proper decorum, "We did not expect to see you here."

"I heard you needed aid." Thranduil said loftily, exuding an undeniable aura of authority, and waved a hand to the horse-drawn carriages that came into view along the path next. Each one filled to the rim with goods. He and his entourage stood aside and let every carriage move past in a steady procession and into the camp proper without any ado, without a single further word.

Bard was astounded beyond words as cries of elation rose behind him, and had to struggle to find his voice again. "You have saved us." he spoke breathlessly, thankful beyond measure, "I do not know how to thank you."

"You need not." the Elven King dismissed, "Provide what I wish to know, and it will be enough."

 _OoOoO_

Before long they were sat in a tent quickly set up by Thranduil's servants. Its weave was of astounding quality and was well worthy of being a temporary abode to the King of Mirkwood. It was yet not wholly set up though, as it would be brought down again soon as their conversation concludes.

It was simply set up to establish a measure of privacy in this crowded a setting.

"Now that we have a measure of quiet." King Thranduil started and brandished a hand with dismissive aplomb, "I would learn all you know that pertains to a certain group of dwarves and the current state of Smaug. For I can not but wonder if the brazen intrusion into my land, and the string of events that led to the repeated sieges of your esteemed village are in some way connected."

Bard grimaced, but he hid the expression quickly. Because of what the Lord have so generously done, he was more than ready to disclose all he knew. Yet the question was:

Would he frame the she-elf he now knew to be Thranduil's Captain of the Guard? He still desired for her to be punished for the things she brought into motion in bringing the dwarves to Esgaroth, but Thranduil was like to not believe him and in so doing the accusation could potentially destroy any good will the Elven King had.

He really wanted to include her treachery into his tale. The risk was however altogether too great with all the lives at stake here, so he explained all that he knew about the dwarves... and left the part of her involvement out. The names, those he knew by name that is, along with their shared intent to venture northward to the Lonely Mountain and reclaim Erebor from Smaug's clutches.

"Thorin Oakenshield. I suspected as much." the Lord said with a slight narrowing of the eyes, "Continue."

Bard next covered how he tried to stop them from leaving the villlage but failed after he learned of their intent. Once again much to his distaste he had to leave the she-elf's involvement out, and on the side said nothing of the cat-woman... if only because of his lack of sureness whether the Good King would believe him. Then he moved onto the attack by Smaug, how injured the dragon somehow was rendered from its confrontation with the dwarves, and ended his tale on how he managed to make the dragon flee.

"A most admirable feat." King Thranduil inclined his head in brief but genuine commendation, "While the dragon was not slain, what you did was an accomplishment few through the ages can hold to their names."

Bard echoed the gesture, "Thank you, my lord. I have told you all that I know, and can guarantee the dragon will not return for long a while. Now I must return to my people, for shelter remains a concern."

"I will send for craftsmen among my people to aid in the rebuilding." the Elven King announced as he stood, "Yet even with efforts combined, it will not be enough to provide homes for all your people before the winter's end."

"Then what are we to do, my Lord?" Bard blinked dumbly.

"You have shelter that can be readily used, if only you open your eyes and look thereto."

It took him a moment to comprehend, "Dale."

An empty city, ruins to be sure, but shelter nonetheless. Splitting the surviving population between Dale and the new Lake-town in progress would allow him to quickly provide shelter for all of them, and doing so would strain their food-poor surroundings far less. Such a simple and elegant solution to their problems lay before him all this time.

"And with a little bit of the gold in the mountain we could more ably rebuild." Bard added to the conversation.

"Many will now look to the mountain in the dragon's absence. I for one seek a precious heirloom."

"Then we shall not tarry, my Lord. Give us a little time and we shall accompany you."

"Do as you wish."

"Thank you, my Lord." Bard inclined his head and excused himself promptly, to begin preparations at once. And so, though he did not yet realize it, the seeds of a new Kingdom of Dale was sown.

 _OoOoO_

"Well?"

Thorin's brusque voice pierced the relative quiet as well as any razor blade through soft flesh as Balin and Kili finally returned from the outlook. It had been just past midday when the morning hunt was completed and Dwalin hurried off to warn their leader of what they've seen. And before too long they in full assembled at the gates.

"They are coming." Balin wiped sweat from his bald patch and confirmed, "The whole lot of them, and I wager some from Lake-town might be with them."

"Lake men aside, it turns out Tauriel was quite right about what her sovereign would do in Smaug's absence." H'anigi observed from her seated position on a flight of stairs, finding quiet satisfaction and alarm both in how Thorin seemed to fume not far from the manner of a kettle, "Want to guess how much of her other assumptions might come to pass?"

Bofur looked between them worriedly, "A big battle's coming isn't it?"

"Afraid so." Balin sighed, "Azog remains on the hunt for us, and may very well be on his way here with every orc he can marshal."

Thorin snorted, "It matters not. When Dáin arrives, Erebor will be made unassailable."

"Aye, but the elves may arrive before he does, uncle..." Kili joined in.

"Then we'll make do with what we have. Erebor was hard-won, and I will not see it taken from us again." the dwarf leader continued thoughtfully as he took a long look at the broken gates, "We will block this passage with a wall of stone as high as we can build it. After that, we will gather from the nearby armory all the weapons and armor we require."

H'anigi observed somberly as none voiced as to what the Elven King wanted, nor ask whether the hurdle could be solved simply by handing it over. For if a host of orcs is truly on its way, and arrive before this Dáin does, then their survival hinged on making the legion of elves stay close by denying them their prize.

A daunting task in more than one way, but needs must when Thal rides.

Soon as the plan was laid out and the dwarves responded with a roar of grim approval, Thorin lead them back into Erebor to wherever he intended to collect equipment and materials for the most immediate task. H'anigi got off from where she sat and followed in the dwarves' wake, though her objective was to reach Bilbo who trudged along, his expression grossly melancholic.

Bilbo looked even worse than he did yesterday.

But soon as she came close enough to strike a conversation, Bilbo inexplicably sped up his pace and pushed further into the crowd in an apparent effort to escape. Confused, the miqo'te motioned to follow when Dwalin suddenly stepped in and held out an arm to stop her, "Hold, lass..."

"What are you doing?" H'anigi hissed the question angrily.

"I'm damned well aware you wish to help him, H'anigi," Dwalin replied with surprising gentleness, "but this is something the lad's got to work out by himself."

She stared at the normally gruff dwarf disbelievingly, "And if that guilt pushes him over the edge?"

"If that happens, I can not think of a better person to catch him." he said solemnly, then shrugged as he lowered the thickly muscled arm of his, "And this may sound completely stupid to you, but there's such a thing as an expression a man can not show to a woman."

"Indeed," she frowned, "that does sound stupid."

Dwalin barked a short laugh he shut off with a succinct cough, "Just leave him be for the time being, till he's ready to open up."

"I'd prefer not to put it off, but... fine..." H'anigi sighed, reluctantly conceding as they arrived at a heavy set of doors to what was probably a storage space that Dwalin's point was reasonably sound even if she did not favor it in the slightest. At the very least, she would keep an eye on her friend whenever she could spare it.

 _OoOoO_

"Not a bad night's work."

Bilbo felt compelled to agree with Glóin's congratulatory statement as he looked upon the wall they spent the rest of the day and the whole of night to complete. It was made from a dozen or so large statues that had been broken down, hewn into roughly shaped bricks, and wedged into place with deliberate care. So firm in construction courtesy of the dwarves innate skill in stonework that it did not lack for much in hardiness compared to the adjacent walls, and featured an even floor on top they could walk across without having to worry about stumbling, and without fear of its collapse.

This firmness was especially impressive considering the complete lack of mortar to bind the stacked-upon pieces together.

No details were overlooked. It included a steep set of stairs... and even a very square hole near the bottom through which persons on either side could converse face to face. Bilbo wondered if it would see use at all, but gave the dwarves a silent helping of kudos for sheer attention to detail.

"Splendidly done, my companions! Most exemplary!" Thorin praised, seeming less mad than what was usual for him since their arrival here, "Alas we still have one more task before we stop for breakfast!"

"Armor and weapons." Bombur nodded in remembrance, sighing, "I'd rather like to go back and prepare our meal."

"Usually I wouldn't object, brother," Bofur smiled good-naturedly, "but we really ought to get you fitted first. It'd be a mighty embarrassment if you tried to don whatever we picked for you on the eve of battle, and find it doesn't fit at all."

 _Battle..._

Bilbo shuddered with a spike of emotion. While his participation in fights has been on the increase since the Misty Mountains, he deeply detested violence and would rather not fight if any peaceable solution could be resorted to instead. Bloodshed was sadly inevitable in this case with an army of orcs likely on its way. He could only hope the orcs assail them before the elves do.

 _The Elves..._ He much remembered the beauty of Rivendell... the warmth and fairness of its people. Having much for love for them, he had no desire at all to shed their blood. Nor did he want to hurt the men of Esgaroth... for they have suffered enough.

Outside of his miserable thoughts, a laugh was shared by the others at Bofur's teasing. Even their leader chuckled. "Sooner we get it done, the sooner we can feast." Thorin declared, and after the mirth and anticipation that brought they all left the newly made wall behind, and made for the nearest armory.

Bilbo followed only with great hesitation, and was the last to enter the armory proper when they arrived.

Predictably, none of the armored suits that filled these halls could be fitted onto a hobbit's frame. For that they were much too large in every conceivable way. Likewise the weapons are too large and heavy.

Sting would have to suffice. It was small enough for him to use, and so light that to heft and swing it required no effort on his part.

Only one other saw difficulty in the available selection. H'anigi browsed through the wares with idle curiosity and an absence of intent. She was altogether too tall and too slender, and sported a long tail besides so the application of any dwarven armor would at best be too heavy, and prone to falling off.

"Master Baggins, come here."

Bilbo blinked apprehensively and he turned to look at the end of the corridor where Thorin stood, already clothed in full black armor, with something in his hands. Unsure but not about to decline the request for to him to attend, he approached.

Thorin waited patiently for him, "You're going to need this." he presented to him a vest of chain mail so fair that the hobbit struggled to believe it was made by dwarven hands. It most definitely must have been so, however, or the black-bearded dwarf would not have touched it. "Put it on."

For several seconds did Bilbo stare before he removed his jacket and the vest underneath to gingerly put on the offered vest, and let surprise be evident as he noticed how light it was. Compared to it, his regular wear weighed a ton.

"It was made from silver steel. Mithril it was called by my forebears." Thorin stated with reverence, "Very rare. Precious few mines now produce it from their steep pits. No blade can pierce it."

"Well, I f-feel magnificent..." Bilbo replied, saying his thoughts aloud, "but I expect I look rather absurd. How they would laugh on the Hill at home! Still, I wish there was a looking-glass handy!" He shook his head, "Still... I am a hobbit, not a warrior."

"It is a gift. A token of our friendship." the black-plated dwarf sighed, "True friendship is hard to come by."

"I have been blind..." Thorin continued as he applied a hand onto the hobbit's shoulder and led him from the others, "but now I begin to see,"

Bilbo blinked, sufficiently surprised by this admission that he dared hope that Thorin has taken leave of his madness and returned to his honorable and honest self. Yet that was not to be as a veneer of calm lifted from his gaze and exposed a furnace that burned with contempt.

"that I am betrayed."

Instantly did Bilbo's bones freeze, as though turned to ice. He was almost too frightened to ask, "Betrayed?"

"The Arkenstone."

 _H-have I been found out?!_ Bilbo thought to himself, on the verge of panic. _No... he didn't, or I'd be gutted already..._

He cocked his head and leaned close, his black-armored appearance a fearsome sight in the dim light, "One of them has taken it. One of them is false."

"Thorin," he pleaded, "the quest is fulfilled, you got the mountain back. Is that not enough?"

"Betrayed by my own kin." the dwarf glanced away and muttered in a hateful manner, lost in his paranoia, deaf to the words of the hobbit who could only stare in abject horror. "You, my friend, is the only one I can trust with such an important task." Thorin said as he withdrew, "Find the traitor, expose him..." and watched as their dwarven companions walked the halls fully armed for war. Covered in thick suits of armor, with fearsome weapons on their backs that are lacking in even the most basic sense of civility.

So stunned Bilbo was by this development that he merely stood there, staring at where Thorin stood even long after his departed, his mind assailed by an intense onrush of undiluted horror.

 _W-what have I done...?_

His only lifeline that made his "safekeeping" of the Arkenstone remotely bearable was the reasoning that they'd keep searching for it until the time was right to bury it in a distant corner of the treasure for them to find at long last. Now it was no longer an option, as the company stood poised to unravel as distrust seeped through its foundation.

It would take a few days yet, but had all the inevitability of the world behind it.

Now its discovery could not come soon enough, even though he recognized what might come to pass after. Thorin may very well be mollified... or he'd descend further still into madness as he kept it out of reach from those he suspected of betrayal. As for H'anigi...

Bilbo dared now finish that thought, of how much could go wrong.

All of these possibilities weighed down on him, and the Baggins and Tookish sides of him waged a bitter war on which direction to take on the issue... only to be tormented by terrible indecision that threatened to finally push him over the edge until a firm hand landed on his shoulder and shook him out of his impromptu trance.

Startled and confused, Bilbo gave a small yelp that ended as he snapped his eyes into focus and looked upon Bofur who now stood before him, the normally jolly dwarf's face naked with concern. "Bilbo," he whispered, "What's the matter?"

"I.. S-sorry about that," he whispered, scrambling to find at least a halfway decent excuse, "I was m-miles away for a moment..."

"A moment?" muttered Bofur disbelievingly, "Had you remained any longer, I've no doubt you'd be about ready to root yourself to the floor and call it a year."

"That bad?" Bilbo grimaced, nervous and just a twitch from fidgeting, "Maybe I just need to go for a walk, get some fresh air."

"I could go get Ori for you..."

"No, no, no." he shook his head, "That won't be necessary. You got enough on your plate as is." noting absently the clashes of metal that told him a sparring session's probably going on to put their new weapons and armor to the test.

Bofur frowned but did not object, "If you say so."

"Yeah... I'll see you at breakfast." Bilbo nodded perhaps more than he needed to as he went and retrieved the clothes discarded earlier, "One of the things no hobbit would even consider missing out on."

"And," the dwarf cocked his head amusedly, "what are those other things if I may ask?"

"You need to ask?" he managed a smile as he recalled the so distant and homely Shire, "Any time when meals are served."

Bofur chuckled, "Your people got their priorities straight."

"They do, and I try to follow suit." Bilbo shrugged with a little snicker of his own, "Now I best get on that walk."

"Don't go too far, alright?"

"I won't." Bilbo promised, grateful, as he stepped toward the exit and left this brand of narrow space behind somewhat briskly. "Well..." he whispered to himself soon as he was out of earshot, feeling surprisingly calm after the conversation in spite of how his heart hammered, "That was oddly therapeutic..."

Now he could embark on what he needed to do with a clear head, his decision finally made, but needed to be swift.

Soon as he arrived at the great hall, he made a turn away from its swarming residents to take the winding but thankfully marked path that would lead him back to the mansion they used for a campsite. A traverse that was a small journey in and of itself. Every second of the approach through Erebor's labyrinthe interior, he spent trying to think of ways to mitigate any damage in case the worse of his predictions came to pass. Wild conjecture, mostly, but helped provide assurance.

If there's a will, there's a way.

Bilbo fully intended to have much of either.

To such an extent did he immerse himself in this planning session, with enough mind on the side to follow the markers Balin thoughtfully laid out for them, that he remembered little of the journey itself and was almost surprised when he suddenly met with the mansion entrance.

Once past it he made a beeline for his room, and in there retrieved the makeshift bundle of cloth he used as a pillow from his bed and brought its contents to light with wrapped concentration. "Still here." Bilbo breathed as he looked onto the rough globe, momentarily bewitched by its otherworldy radiance, "Now... I got to..."

Bilbo turned from his bed, his next destination intended fully to be the treasure chamber, when he noticed something was off... given how the door was blocked by a very recognizable feminine figure. A sight that saw his heart plummet through the floor.

"I never imagined," a frighteningly calm H'anigi commented, "you had it in you, Bilbo."

 _OoOoO_

To be honest, H'anigi felt somewhat peeved that Bilbo kept secret the fact that he's possibly had the Arkenstone in his possession for days, maybe even since their flight from Smaug – the most likely time and place, she deemed – but could not find it in her to be really angry as upon seeing her the hobbit's skin turned deathly pale like a lalafell's would if she found herself stuck on the sticky end of a gigantoad's tongue.

Bilbo stuttered, frightened beyond his wits, "H-H'anigi...?"

"Since when?" she tested.

Everything just burst from him, as if thinking that complete honesty would cushion an inevitable blow, "Um, since m-my talk with S-Smaug."

 _Guess I got that right..._ "You didn't hand it to Thorin."

"Intended to... b-but I got sidetracked..."

 _A sword to your gut and a dragon breathing down your neck will do that..._ H'anigi thought dryly, "What about after?"

"Because of what happened... I'm a-ashamed to admit that I grew to fear him," stuttered Bilbo with a tone that carried a deep sense of resignation, deflating before her eyes, "... Thorin's greed has overtaken his senses. He's become paranoid and likely to lash at whoever he suspects of betrayal."

She had no doubt of that, "And what did you plan to do about that?"

"After the talk I had with Thorin in the armory, I decided things have gone too far. I... intended to hide it amidst the treasure and make sure it's found in one or two days time..."

"You didn't think of it before?"

Bilbo looked unsteady as he glanced side to side, "It did not cross my mind till then... Also... er..."

"Hm?" she quirked a brow at him.

"N-no, noth..." he refused initially only to swiftly reconsidered, "Actually... I worried also that you'd leave once you got the Arkenstone in hand..."

H'anigi stood stock still for a moment as she digested that particular piece of information, "That's why you avoided me."

"Yes, I was stupid and I am sorry."

"That you are." H'anigi muttered as she took a few steps closer and inclined to look into his face, "I may be a few things, but lacking in commitment I am not. In no way am I about to renege."

Bilbo stared back at her before he at the statement just plopped into his bed, looking as though the whole world fell off his shoulders. "I..."

She withdrew slightly and waved it off, "No need for that. But regarding that plan of yours. It's good, but I doubt you have a clear overview where everyone have looked. Pick slightly wrong and Thorin will aim to cull members from the company before the day is out."

The hobbit looked slightly lost as he considered that, the sense of relieved elation gone already, "Then... how do you suggest I go about this?"

With a frown, H'anigi pondered the issue. She looked away and into a wall for a moment in so doing before an idea occurred, "... The approaching lake men." she recalled thoughtfully, "I was told you took onto yourself much of the blame."

"Y-yes... but don't say it wasn't my fault." Bilbo was puzzled by the sudden change of topic but swiftly recovered as his gaze became distance from remembrance, and his voice gained an edge of bitter self-disgust, "My carelessness ultimately led to Lake-town's destruction. And I have every intention to make amends."

"I'm not going to argue on that." H'anigi told him with a slump of her shoulders, "How are you going to make amends, if I may ask?"

"My payment for taking part in this quest's one fourteenth of the treasure."

She let out a low whistle, thinking of the veritable ocean of gold and gems, "Sounds... generous. Compensation might very well be what the lake men want, and Thorin might very well have a few choice words about that – none of them particularly congenial."

Bilbo emitted a deep sigh as he slumped, "Given his current state of mind... I can all too easily see that happen."

"Which is why we could, well, secretly loan them the Arkenstone so to force a parlay."

A pregnant moment predictably stretched out between them as Bilbo processed the suggestion. "Yes..." he finally whispered, "that just might work. Risky though... what if an opportunistic someone decide to run off with it?"

"I would find the git and try my new axe on his skull." H'anigi with hands applied to hips bluntly stated. "Outside, where the aether density is much lower, an artifact as powerful as the Arkenstone will shine as clearly as a lighthouse during a fogless night."

"Besides—" she continued before a mess of shambling noises erupted from the mansion entrance that immediately caused Bilbo to pack away the Arkenstone in a tremendous hurry. Accompanying this clamor was a voice that clearly belonged to an exhausted Bombur, among others – one of whom entered the adjacent corridor before he with Dori's voice yelled out and slammed the living room door shut. No doubt startled by her little Bit bodyguard that bobbed about just outside the room.

It was amusing, really. Moments later, Dori called from the door, "H'anigi, you there?"

"Aye." she resisted the urge to giggle and replied aloud, "Come out. It ain't going to fillet you... yet."

Dori's lack of response and further entry was priceless.

"Well, I'm convinced at least." Bilbo said pointedly once the crystal was far out of sight, "Let's say and make no more of this till the time comes."

"Of course." she accepted curtly, "Meanwhile we can concern ourselves with more immediate matters such as what sort of breakfast Bombur's gonna prepare, and the deconstruction of a certain ring I believe we've postponed enough."

At that, when she brought it up, something strange flashed across Bilbo's face as he put a hand over his pocket. A mildly twisted yet unreadable expression which vaguely reminded H'anigi of the creature Gollum. It passed without his apparent notice though as he drooped and suddenly looked very tired, "Do you think it can even be done? ... You saw how bad that went back in Lake-town."

"Nothing is unbreakable Bilbo. Nothing." H'anigi snapped so the hobbit jumped, alarmed by what she just glimpsed, "One way or another, we will deal with that issue. I promise."

"I, I... y-yes." Bilbo stumbled on his words before he abruptly went and slapped his cheeks, followed by a sigh as the small flash of pain vanished, "Okay, let's say we try to destroy it again... we're going to need help."

She softened the tone and cautiously smiled, "Aye to that, and I got just the people in mind."

 _OoOoO_

Once the belated breakfast was finished, it did not take long for the mansion to be largely emptied once again as Thorin left and took the majority of the company with him for further exercises. Balin to the greatest extent agreed with the need for it, but greatly worried for their unbreakable leader whose behavior has gotten... erratic as of late, the star he represented to them darker than ever before. Much of it could be attributed to the persistent failure to acquire the Arkenstone, but there is also a great current of greed beneath the surface akin to that which his father and his father's father suffered.

Not one of them would even think to betray the one they to a man recognized as their King, but he could not help but feel unease with the situation as it is now.

As fitting of one his age, Balin remained at the living room table and quietly ruminated till a chair opposite to him was pulled away with a slight screech of wood being slid across stone. Not easily surprised, Balin simply looked up at the tall and smoothly slender and tailed figure that gracefully took the unoccupied seat.

Briefly Balin recalled how the friendship between her and Bilbo mended in so little a time, indicated by how they sat side by side during breakfast without the hobbit trying to shy away. The latter tendency has been rather a mystery to him, admittedly, as there were no readily apparent cause for it, but he simply shrugged it off in favor of being glad that it was no more.

Instead he focused on the miqo'te who from the moment she joined has alongside the hobbit contributed much toward the continuation and success of their journey. Not to mention that she also represented something astonishingly new, complete with world-shaking revelations he found fascinated by to no end.

Would the coming conversation bring new information to light, he wondered. Her expression was enough to provide affirmation.

She asked: "Balin, do you have time to talk?"

"Why of course I am, lass." Balin raised his shoulders an inch, "Is there an issue?"

"Yeah..." the miqo'te fidgeted mildly, "By any chance, are you familiar on the topic of, well, magical rings?"

Balin frowned, "You speak of the Rings of Power per chance?"

"The same, I think." she nodded nervously, "You see, Bilbo has had one in his possession since his sojourn into the depths of what you guys call the Misty Mountains. A possession that is taking him to dark place..."

"Does it have a jewel embedded in it?"

"Not really. To the eye it looks like no more than a simple golden band."

"I see. Not among the seven given so long ago to the lords of our people, then." Balin considered with a hum, brows brought together as to form a solid bushy line, "Thorin's father used to have a Ring of Power in his possession."

"You know more about the topic than I do, then." H'anigi said, her tone solemn, "Does that include on how to destroy them?"

Balin scrunched up his face, puzzled, "Is the ring such a burden?"

She took a deep breath, "Yes it is. The ring provides longevity and evokes from its user a sense of obsessive possessiveness that will grow to the point of irrationality, then insanity. A conclusion we've reached considering its former owner... and a couple of moments prior where Bilbo displayed problematic symptoms, along with moments where he inexplicably prioritized the ring over his own life. It also grants its user the ability to turn invisible... so if Bilbo gets sufficiently insane he'll certainly put it on and we'll never see him again. So I ask again... do you know how to destroy it?"

"I am not certain. To my knowledge, the Rings of Power may only be undone in the places of their making." Balin closed his eyes, grim at the things she described. If Thorin learned of it... Balin shuddered at what could happen given his current... unbalance, "Where they were made however... I do not know."

She buried the face in her palms, dismayed, "There must be something."

"Peace lass. I do not plan to abandon Bilbo, and so shall I collect my brother and we'll make an attempt to break it asunder." Balin growled, determination lit, "See if it can withstand the crafts of the dwarves."

* * *

 **Author notes:** Originally I planned to have the elves and lake men arrive at Dale within this chapter, but ultimately it did not feel right. Instead it'll take place next chapter. Also, Thranduil turned into a bit of a tsundere here when I mixed the niceness of his in the book with the less nice behavior he put up in the movies, come to think of it.

As for an answer to comments:

Korus207: That might happen, eventually.

Exillion: I considered that before I started on this story on whether to include more FFXIV characters. Ultimately I thought about how future events would unfold to and beyond the inevitable time-skip and decided H'anigi would suffice for the duration of this 1st arc of the story. She's got a companion cube now at least.

Merlinius Ambrosius: It would present a huge hurdle to the world of Middle-Earth for sure, but it's not like they've not faced huge hurdles before. That said, they won't be short on outside aid when the time comes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:** **Path of Least Strife**

* * *

It was a ragged thing, the striking dummy Dwalin was supplied. Wooden figures dressed in whatever was available, followed by armor they did not have a need for. All that remained was to visualize it as an enemy of choice and wail at it with all of his strength. Orcs are easy to provide the mental image of, Durin knows he has brought down more of those cretin than he cared to count. Men are likewise easy to imagine, but what Dwalin in this case wanted more than anything else to picture an elvish opponent.

His memory of the debacle down at Mirkwood served somewhat to that capacity, but it was a woefully incomplete image of what it's like fighting the elusive knife-ears. He and his companions were overwhelmed in an instant, far too fast to take even a half-decent measure of them.

In a few days from now they very well could be neck deep in battle with these beings, less than two dozen combatants facing an army of hundreds. He felt less than optimistic about their lack of experience far as the elves are concerned, but would damned well be sure not to make it easy for them.

Men are less of a concern in that regard. He doubted they would amount to enough to provide a threat.

Dwalin struck his massive mace across the dummy's head with such force that it span and hit the opposing wall, from which it then fell and clattered against the stone floor in a clamor of wood and clashing metal.

Rather than pick it up and resume, he set the mace down and brought himself to ruminate quietly while those around him continued to clash with each their own striking dummies. Thorin among them who went at it with more energy than the others, until he slowed with the approach of Balin who opened up a line of conversation.

He had no idea of what was discussed over the persistent clamor, so his interest quickly faded and he busied himself with righting up the dummy for another go until Balin approached.

"Dwalin, you can continue that later." his elder brother told him, "Come, and leave your weapon and armor. We got work to do where neither will be needed."

"What's this about?" Dwalin asked in puzzlement.

Balin held his gaze, "We're going down to the forges, to test and make sure all of it's in serviceable condition. All else I'll explain on the way."

That did sound reasonable enough. Dwalin complied then followed his brother out and away from the armory in short order. One question lingered though when it became clear that Balin was not about to ask for more to join them, "You're not going to ask for anybody else to assist?"

"Frankly speaking the two of us will suffice." Balin replied, voice suddenly grim, "What we are about to do has little to do with what I previously told you. The task ahead, we cannot let Thorin know of it."

Dwalin bristled, disturbed by the knowledge that his own blood had apparently embarked on some secret ploy, "Why?"

And he explained. What brought this on, and why the secrecy was a requisite. H'anigi had told Balin a little while ago that Bilbo's in possession of some powerful magical trinket he picked up in the Misty Mountains that needed to be destroyed soonest possible. Dwalin could not quite believe his ears, and when they arrived at a meeting spot where the hobbit and miqo'te waited for them he asked but one question: "And when exactly did you two plan to tell the rest of us about this cursed ring you somehow found in that accursed place?"

"It didn't come up." H'anigi supplied, seeming strangely smug about the reply.

"How very clever..." Dwalin grumbled, "Bilbo?"

"Y-yeah, sorry about that." Bilbo awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed, "Did not want to burden anyone, but I'm... kind of out of options."

"No need for worry. We are glad to help." Balin commented reassuringly, "Now make haste. Onto the forges we go."

Dwalin and the others followed Balin succinctly as he took a nearby set of stairs that led down to yet another staircase, then another one. Down and down they passed through the floors between themselves and their destination. A path that culminated in what was for the non-dwarves a jarringly narrow series of stairs surrounded by a cavernous expanse that seemed to have no limit in its width. Dwalin and his brother on the other hand navigated the place easily, he even found time to marvel at the scale of Erebor's mighty facilities that stood heads and shoulders above all other such places in the north.

Most prominently across this expanse stood great furnaces which at full blast could melt many tons of ore like so much cheese. Each that would require a large crew and hours of work to start up and maintain. Briefly did he gauge the reaction of his companions in this venture, but found that only H'anigi really beheld this view with any fascination. Bilbo in contrast, being from a people of mostly farmers, showed no apparent interest whatsoever – his only concern being wherever Balin intended for their destination.

A place that amounted to a comparatively small workshop that nevertheless was absurdly well-equipped. Dwalin picked up a long-handled sledgehammer from a mess of cobweb and examined it with no small amount of reverence. Each of these tools being works of art, the type given to the greatest of artifex.

"Here we are." Balin declared as he inspected the furnace and the supply of fuel, "Come, my kin. Help me with this."

Eager to put such exquisite equipment to use, Dwalin went to work with what was for him a grand display of enthusiasm, "Aye."

 _OoOoO_

Upon arrival, H'anigi found herself a chair and simply watched as the dwarves worked. For starters, they put shovels and brushes to use and removed the piles of ashes that permeated the furnace's multiple internal layers that once clean were fed with heaps of fuel. Dwalin shoveled coal into place while Balin made sure to distribute it and the tinder. Once all was ready, they lit it up. From there, Balin kept an eye on the fire and continued to distribute tinder and coal where needed, while Dwalin got on the huge bellow and fanned the flames.

It took a fair while to get it to blaze at full blast, but it was well worth the wait as it quickly overtook every forge she's ever known in terms of intensity. Her eyes teared at how fiercely the furious flames made themselves felt across this workshop, so much so that she wondered how in the world the dwarves managed to keep their beards unlit.

"That should do it." Balin stated after another small stretch of time, and took up a tong of rather considerable length, "Bilbo, if you will..."

"So the moment of truth has come." H'anigi applied a gentle pat on the silent hobbit's back, though she watched in a hawkish manner in case the symptoms rear their ugly heads, "Go on. See if the blasted thing can withstand this."

Bilbo nodded gravely as he reached into his pocket and retrieved it, then held onto the thing with both hands as though he contemplated putting it on.

She applied a hand onto the nearest shoulder of his, "Bilbo."

The hobbit grimaced, "... I... know..." and placed the ring on the palm of his right hand. An effort that seemed momentous.

Soon as the palm was fully open, Balin plucked up the ring with his tong and carefully placed it onto a metal grill in the center of the furnace. H'anigi kept her hand on him to root him in place as they now waited with bated breath.

 _OoOoO_

"How does it look?"

Balin did not respond to Dwalin who continued to operate the bellow, his gaze focused fully on Bilbo's mysterious ring. It looked like no more than a very simple golden band, but its appearance was wholly deceiving. Even exposed to heat such as this for an hour, he could detect not the slightest deformity. It simply refused to melt.

Instead, a set of flowing runes had appeared across the band, a strange form of elvish, that glowered with malevolent potency, almost like the thing taunted them for their effort. Balin had not a clue as to the meaning of those characters, but to look upon them caused anxiety. _We aren't done yet..._ Balin shook his head and growled, offended by the mockery it offered, as he extended the tong once again, and withdrew the ring onto the nearest anvil, "Dwalin. Bring down the hammer."

Without a word, Dwalin promptly left the bellow to pick up the master-crafted sledgehammer that he had put down next to it and held it expertly with both hands as he neared, took position, swung it high over his head and brought it down in with such force that the impact was thunderous, and sent a shower of angry sparks in every direction. A scream of metal was issued that was immediately joined by a yelp from Bilbo, like he had been physically struck.

Unbelievably, the ring got out of this without a scratch.

Befuddled and astonished, Dwalin withdrew his hammer and looked upon the surface of it he had landed the blow with.

It was dented.

"I cannot believe it." Dwalin hissed.

"We took a trip down to the smithy back in Lake-town." H'anigi revealed, her narrowed eyes on the hammer, "The sledgehammer used to try and break it apart shattered in one hit."

"Shattered?!"

"Like it was made from glass..."

Dwalin swore.

"It's to be expected..." Balin shook his head, "Nevertheless we must take heart. We got the best tools on hand... If we can't hack this..."

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi momentarily hated Balin for that last bit even if she recognized how unreasonable that was as the dwarves continued to go at it. Instead her attention focused on the aetheric eruptions that shot from the ring with every blow of the sledgehammer, each one strangely subdued compared to the reaction elicited from it back in Lake-town. It seemed the ring was not without bizarre mood swings of its own.

Now it did no more than mock them rather than explode in outrage.

In so doing it mocked Dwalin more than anyone else, who reciprocated in kind as with every strike he sharpened his stance and placed more strength in his wide swings that terminated against the cursed golden band until the sledgehammer on the verge of being broken apart.

Dwalin grunted in displeasure at the knowledge, and swung one more time... upon which his newly gained tool broke like an eggshell if with a disturbing lack of dramatics. In reaction, Balin returned the ring into the furnace, fed in more fuel, and worked the bellow while Dwalin went to fetch a new hammer. No words were exchanged in so doing, the brothers seemed to be in no need of any as they got in to the groove of their work.

For a length of time that blurred together, they went at it ceaselessly. Endeavors were made to strengthen the flames, to exchange damaged tools for unused ones, and repeatedly attempted to bludgeon the blasted ring into an unrecognizable hunk of metal.

Eventually it looked like their effort was on the verge of success as the tiniest trace of damage had appeared on the otherwise impeccable band of gold, only to find it was an illusion as Dwalin brought another sledgehammer to bear, the newest of the lot, relatively speaking, only to stare in horror as upon contact... the hammerhead splintered, fragmented, collapsed, then flew from the accessory with such speed that everyone ducked from the shower of broken fragments.

The ring, as it were, lay contemptuously on the anvil and taunted them with not even a sound but the resounding echo of their failure.

"Impossible..." Dwalin stared at the broken handle and dropped it.

"... As I feared." his older brother said gloomily, eyes lit with contempt for the damnable accessory, "We can not unmake this."

"You can't?" Bilbo asked with mounting panic, his expression frozen into one akin to battle shock from having resisted the temptation and allure of retrieving the ring throughout the process, plenty helped by her steadying hand upon the shoulder. "That can't be it... Erebor was our... my... last hope."

"I am sorry, lad." Balin said remorsefully as he with the tong picked up the ring and extended it to the hobbit, "This... ring... is an item most cursed, and where it can be unmade may only be where it was forged, the location of which is as unclear to us as the identity of the one who made them magical rings in the first, for such knowledge is no longer known to us."

"T-then..." he stuttered softly, tentatively accepting the strangely cool ring into his palm, "there's no choice but to give up?"

"No one's telling you to give up, lad." the wizened dwarf snapped, if kindly, "The knowledge you could not find here might well be found elsewhere. For now though, you should not delve into worries so raw when we may very well not survive the coming days."

The hobbit drooped his shoulders, returning the dread accessory to its pocket, "I suppose so..."

As she looked on, H'anigi felt like she should lend words of encouragement, of reassurance. None however left her lips, for what could truly be said to what they've learned here? Truth be told she wanted to stay no longer than it would take to conclude the current series of events she's gotten so involved in, yet felt compelled out of a sense of camaraderie and guilt to help Bilbo with his ring-related issue.

In such a manner did these interests collide that they tore her up deep inside.

"Can you not do something?" H'anigi whispered so softly that none of her words reached the companions, a hand placed on the tomestone she carried on her person, thinking of the device that hovered idly behind her.

 _Negative._ Guidance Node replied to her query in the usual flat manner, lacking in interest as per the usual. _It Is Bound To An Entity Of Immense Power. No A_ _pplication_ _Of Conventional Force Will Suffice._

And that sounded like far more than she cared to deal with. There must to be some other way to go about this. Yet no matter how hard she thought, she was stumped on the matter, and decidedly ultimately that she was for now better off taking Balin's advice, just like poor Bilbo would have to.

"Still," Bilbo said onto the old dwarf, "how can I not worry for the future beyond that?"

For some reason, that question struck H'anigi as quite nostalgic. Questions to that effect was a frequent one among the new meat who joined the pirate crew she used to be part of. An answer to which the Captain's first mate was more than willing to provide, in a manner of speaking. And she... was quite willing to emulate his example. "Then you won't mind," she thus interjected before Balin could answer, "if I put you through a little workout – just to keep you... preoccupied."

The hobbit, bless him, looked confused, "How's that going to help?"

"Trust me." the busty marauder smirked, "You won't even remember what you worried about for the duration."

"I..." he lifted a brow, "It's nothing too difficult, hm?"

"Nothing worse than I was put through when I just started out." her outward smirk did not change, but her mental one turned outright evil – though she did speak the truth.

"Oh... alright then."

"Trust me. You won't regret it."

 _OoOoO_

Two days later... Bilbo most definitely regretted it.

Soon as they returned from the forges, H'anigi had finished up a mental draft of the training regimen she fully intended to put him through. It included such things as a back and forth dash to the mansion then back to the gates. Countless lifts, of both himself and various heavy objects. And similarly innumerable repetitions of stabs and swings of his short sword at a striking dummy. A routine of such exhaustive drills that he would have called it quits if it was not for the fact that his trainer put herself through the same.

At first it was just the two of them, but then a few of the dwarves decided to join in. A number that grew until a full dozen of their company were involved. Even Thorin eventually took part, at which point H'anigi toughened up the regimen to accommodate.

"Stamina is key." H'anigi called in-between breaths from the fore as they went on another marathon, its laps all the greater than previous runs because Balin – may his beard fall off for that – decided to provide her information on the mountain kingdom's layout, "No amount of skill will help you if you lose your wits and exhaustion takes you long before you run out of skulls to smash."

Prompt as a rooster in the morning they all shouted in an, "Aye!" of affirmation.

By then they've covered at least five kilometers worth of ground, and Bilbo was amazed that he still managed to keep going, though he supposed the long distances they crossed with few breaks, particularly when danger breathed down their collective necks, greatly helped. Still, he sweated from every pore like a stuck pig and panted from the effort of it.

"Up we go!" the miqo'te shouted as they approached another set of stairs, an awfully long one, "Climb! Climb! Climb, you bunch of oafs! No lazing about!"

She's really getting into it.

"Aye!"

If there was at least one piece of silver lining amidst all this effort, H'anigi fully spoke the truth of it when she said this would keep him from worrying. Forget about his concerns, he did not even have the time or energy to think. During their breaks he only managed to perform necessities that ended in him sleeping so steeply that he did not even dream.

 _Works as intended, I guess..._

Unable to do much more than focus on putting one foot ahead of the other, Bilbo had no idea they crossed into familiar corridors not far from the main hall before he heard the voice of Bofur boom from far ahead, "Smoke rise from Dale!"

Instantly the group broke as frenzy took its individual components, Thorin now fully in the lead, "Have they sent an emissary?"

"They have!" Bofur's voice was a lot closer now, solemn in tone, "It's the bargeman."

"Brilliant." Glóin groaned not far behind.

Bilbo remembered Bard and sighed at how sour their parting was. However the imminent conversation between him and Thorin would develop, he imagined there would be a lot of bitterness. Still, he wanted to be there and see how the exchange goes... but his body was not like to last that long – an estimation proven true when sheer exhaustion caught up to him and he was forced to stop at the very foot of the outer walls, leaving him quite alone as everyone else dashed up the stairs.

Or, almost alone that is as H'anigi's shadow fell on him.

"Think there's a chance they'll come to some amiable agreement after all?" the busty marauder asked, smiling soberly as she with the back of a hand wiped a streak of sweat from her forehead.

"I'd be surprised if it ended on a note of hostility just a step from being naked."

"Heh." she chuckled humorlessly, "Take a nap then. I'll fill you in when you wake up."

A huge part of him did want nothing more than to sleep. Still, Bilbo shook his head and waved her away. "No, I'll listen in from here. Go to them."

H'anigi nodded once, slowly, and walked off.

Once alone, Bilbo strained to listen only to somewhere down the line get the sense that time had passed. All he knew was that he closed his eyes, and opened them to find everyone off the wall, expressions grim on those in sight. Bilbo's confusion lasted only for a moment. He needed not hear a word. He already knew the outcome, and what needed to happen next.

 _OoOoO_

Upon his removal from Dol Guldur's shadowy influence, recovery was only a matter of a few hours. With a new staff soon in hand and a steed, Gandalf left Radagast's care with great haste and urgency. Since then he had traversed forested lands and open plains with barely a stop, and then only so his newly supplied horse could regain her strength.

Along the way he found the ruin of Lake-town, and the ongoing labor to build it anew. Gandalf stopped briefly to offer questions, for the number of people present seemed rather small. Either they suffered very dire losses, or some decided to head elsewhere, the latter which turned to be the case though the loss of life were indeed great.

One man they named as King Bard had taken a portion to Dale in the company of the Elven King's army.

Much has changed, but it changed his destination not. Gandalf made for the Lonely Mountain next with greater haste than before. If not taken hold of quickly, this situation could very easily lead to ill ends.

After a seemingly endless traverse across sloping and hilly terrain, Gandalf finally arrived and found smoke rise from the ruins of Dale, filled with life for the first time in nearly two hundred years. A development that held great promise for the future, provided the following days develop favorably.

Some few people both young and old watched curiously as what seemed to them like no more than an old bearded fellow rode into the town, and searched pointedly for the Elven King. A search that eventually led him into the plaza where dozens of men in armor trained with weapons scrounged from Dale's old arsenal while a number of guardsmen watched and through shouts lent instructions, while craftsmen worked the town's old forges and others carried forth great stacks of arrows, and weapons and armor to supply further volunteers. Not a great army by any means, but was compensated handsomely by the far greater elven presence.

From the plaza he could see Erebor's gate, its broken entrance shored up with a tall wall of rock and stone.

No battle has started yet, which came to Gandalf as a cause for great relief, but if he did not act one would take place perhaps as soon as on the day of tomorrow.

"Oi! You! Pointy hat!"

Rarely was he addressed so. Gandalf took the novelty for what it was and dismounted from his steed with a chant for her to go to where the men are keeping their mounts and get some rest before he hefted the staff that already felt familiar in his wrinkled hand as he turned to the greasy-haired oaf dressed in somewhat bedraggled finery. High in position perhaps, but appeared unloved judging by how people looked at him.

"Yes, you!" the man approached with a uniquely insolent swagger, "We don't want no tramps, beggars, nor vagabonds here... We got enough trouble without the likes of you. So off you go!" he waved dismissively, "Get on your horse and go."

"Who's in charge here?" Gandalf demanded.

At his call, a taller man with more a respectable appearance stepped forth from the masses of troops. Much more impressive a fellow than the other if he was to judge, "Who is asking?"

"Gandalf the Grey." he introduced himself curtly, "King Bard I presume?"

"I am he, but not a King." the dark-haired fellow sighed, "It is a fool idea that has taken root. I merely lead because the Master fled when our need was most dire. I know you not, but what business do you have with me?"

"You and the Elven King both." Gandalf stated with great weight in his words, acknowledging that this man probably knew nothing of wizards beyond myth, if at all, "We have much to discuss, for there is more danger ahead than you may realize."

Bard by his expression looked dubious as to such a claim, but slowly nodded and waved him with – once he had waved off the buffoon. Together they passed through the town until they arrived at an ostentatiously orange-colored tent. Bard needed not even introduce him as they passed the guards and came to stand face to face with the Elven King himself who appeared completely unsurprised by his coming.

"Mithrandir." King Thranduil greeted.

"Thranduil, King of Mirkwood." Gandalf bowed curtly, "I have come with dark tidings."

"Which is nothing new by itself." the Elven King said plainly, "As a rule the coming of Wizards is usually accompanied by the mutterings of doom and ill news. What manner of horror have you come to inform us of this time?"

Gandalf had to concede how often that's the case, "Orcs, armies of them, are on the move. Fighters bred for war. Our Enemy has called forth his full strength from across the region."

Recognition dawned on Thranduil as he took this in, "Why show his hand now?"

"Because we forced him." Gandalf stated firmly as he walked toward the tent's other exit, which ended in a balcony that overlooked the gates of Erebor. Thranduil and Bard followed suit, "We forced him when the Company of Thorin set out to reclaim their homeland. Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them. His Master seeks control of the mountain, not just for the treasure within... but for where it lies, its strategic positioning. It's a gateway to reclaim the lands of Angmar in the North. If that fell Kingdom should rise again... Rivendell, Lórien, the Shire, even Gondor itself, would fall."

At this point Bard had turned very solemn and not a little pale as the tapestry of this scenario turned far greater in scope than what he may have previously thought, "We knew that others would also turn their gaze to Erebor and its treasures, but this..."

"It changes nothing, for there is nothing to fear." Thranduil dismissed, largely unconcerned, "If there are truly armies of orcs on the march, where are they? My scouts have seen the routes to Gundabad, and have seen no sign of such in any shape or form."

"Azog, the orc granted leadership of Sauron's army, is canny beyond most of his wretched kind." Gandalf explained, veiling his frustration at what was going to be a hard sell. Thranduil is strongly opinionated far as elves go, "To evade early notice he is like to take alternate routes not readily apparent to us."

Again the Elven King appeared unconcerned if not wholly unwilling to believe. Still, Gandalf pressed on and decided for now to omit all information concerning Aetherytes, knowing full well that he fought hard enough an uphill battle as it is, one that might very well decide the fate of Middle-Earth.

 _OoOoO_

After the brief negotiation had been carried out, where Bard issued a surprisingly heartfelt attempt to reason with Thorin – which ended unsurprisingly on a sour note, it did not take long before a plan was worked out with Bilbo who excused himself promptly and left for the mansion with the excuse of not feeling too well, when in actuality he went to collect the Arkenstone before he would make a covert return.

H'anigi on her side remained with the dwarves who quickly came to an agreement as to guard assignment, with a healthy time gap on when to switch that she was perfectly fine with along with her turn placed late in the evening, which she was also fine with.

So when the time came and she climbed to the top of the stairs to take over for a grateful Kili, she needed only stay put for a short while, glaring into the night that was only broken by the plentiful lights kept active in Dale, before Bilbo made his reappearance, complete with a round bulge in his pocket and a bundle of rope he had already attached to a nearby merlon.

"Is the coast clear?" Bilbo inquired in a hushed tone.

She glanced toward the flickering light caused by the campfire erected in the main hall for any sign of movement and was satisfied to find none, "It is." she replied in the affirmative, "If we're going to do this, we better start now before the next change of guards."

"We're doing it." Bilbo nodded almost eagerly and tossed the rope past the edge, cautious enough to pull on and make sure the rope wouldn't unravel before he without ado climbed past the parapet and made his descent, clutching the rope with all his might as he went.

H'anigi waited until the hobbit reached the 'moat' of rubble before she too climbed down and leaped onto solid ground from where they together made the straightest beeline possible for Dale, given the plain's deficiency in terms of potential cover, and hoped that no sentries currently watched – something proven true as they neared then arrived at the town without being shot or shouted at. No one among the hundreds strong army apparently expected to get jumped on by a group of warriors that numbered less than a score.

Thanks to this shortcoming in Dale's defenses, entering the town was in terms of overall difficulty a simple affair.

Despite the lack of sentries though, many people were still up and about. Bilbo was about to blend in with the shadows when H'anigi caught him by the shoulder, "We need not sneak our way from here."

Bilbo pointed over her shoulder, "Yes we do."

 _Ah yes, that..._ H'anigi acknowledged as she turned to the diminutive Allagan Bit. It had in all honesty slipped from her mind amidst all this excitement, yet its presence may actually come in handy. " _Fly away."_ H'anigi placed a hand on the tomestone and quietly, experimentally even, issued the order. " _Stay out of sight till I say otherwise."_

It complied immediately and flew up till it was swallowed by the night. "Now we're set."

"We're lucky no one saw that." Bilbo sighed as they walked the streets, following her suggestion though they did avoid what guard posts there are as well as any large crowds.

H'anigi shrugged, "Even if they saw it, who'd think of it as anything else but a large bird?" and obliquely watched with interest as a bunch of kids who should have hit the sack by now ran past, screeching in laughter, their furious mother or caretaker not far behind. _Twelve willing, that'll be me in a few years time... though I'll make sure to run a tighter schedule._

With all the talk in the air about dwarves, no one really paid the lone hobbit and miqo'te in their midst much attention even if a few looks were indeed thrown her way – curiosity mostly. Still, when the crowds grew too thick, Bilbo took them through the closest alley to get out of dodge. A progress by means of stealth through concealment and plain sight that brought them deep into town without once rousing suspicion.

A trip that finally paid off when Bilbo suddenly pointed out two who stood against the backdrop of a bright orange tent. Bard was there, conversing with... Gandalf. A conversation that turned to be a soft-worded argument as they approached.

"Do you agree? Does the gold mean so much to you?" Gandalf demanded in a low voice that carried even through the clamor of marching feet coming from nearby troops practicing their coordination, "Would you buy it with the blood of dwarves?"

"It won't come to that." Bard assured, "This is a battle they cannot win."

"That won't stop them!" Bilbo interjected loudly with the fullest of confidence as they crossed the final distance till they were just beyond arm's reach, "You think the dwarves will surrender? They won't. They will fight to the death."

Gandalf beheld them both, surprised, "Bilbo Baggins. H'anigi Tohl. I did not expect to see you so soon."

"We expected you a whole lot sooner." H'anigi remarked, palms on hips, "Did you forget something at home and went to fetch it somewhere down the line?"

Slight amusement tinged the wizard's expression, "I had to tend to matters of great importance, and was unavoidably... detained."

"Broke in somewhere and got thrown into a cage?"

"Close enough." Gandalf smiled, his gaze somewhat distant in the question's wake, "Now then, as for your presence here. I doubt you came here just to exchange pleasantries."

"Yeah," Bilbo admitted, "we need to speak to whoever is in charge here. It's important and we don't have much time."

"That can be arranged." Bard said and motioned for them to follow.

Gandalf went first, and was joined by Bilbo next. H'anigi was last to follow suit, but undeniably received the most attention by the regally dressed elf who at her entrance rose from the chair he had previously been comfortably seated in, transfixed. She was likewise held on by his intensive gaze before he realized there are yet more elves here she recognized. The only elf she knew by name, and the male she only knew the face and part of the name of.

She offered a small smile to Tauriel who replied with a slight nod so to escape the notice of the others. As for the male who she saw Tauriel walk with back in Lake-town, he too stared.

"What is this?" the lordly one demanded.

"H'anigi Tohl, elf master." H'anigi plainly stated, arms loosely folded.

"That voice!" the familiar-faced elf exclaimed, looking from his female compatriot and onto her, "You were the one who held Tauriel hostage!?"

Gandalf looked to her and then to Bilbo who shrugged, "It's a long story."

"You're the one who bested and captured my Captain of the Guard?" the lordly elf asked and glared at Tauriel who shrank back slightly, "Was there any time you intended to tell us you were outfought by this... this... What is she?"

"A miqo'te, King of Mirkwood." the old wizard was the one to answer, "A denizen from a realm far removed who came to Arda through unlucky happenstance."

"A realm far removed, came to Arda?" the familiar-faced elf sputtered, "What are you saying?"

"You did not tell them anything?" H'anigi asked, her attention on Gandalf.

"Because I was hard enough pressed to even convince him on a more local matter." the wizard noted, a glance thrown to the lordly elf next, "No offense intended, lord Thranduil."

"I am sure." Thranduil responded icily.

"Fair enough." the marauder said loudly, "But last I checked we did not risk ourselves by coming here just to make me an exhibit, even if I do some level of male attention. Bilbo, take it away."

"Yeah." Bilbo awkwardly nodded as he was finally focused on, all eyes following him closely as he walked to the lone round table placed in the middle of the tent, and placed onto it a deceptively heavy bundle of cloth he unwrapped to reveal the object within that turned most of the aforementioned eyes immediately wide.

Thranduil was the first to break the silence as he gazed deeply into the globe of starlight and rainbows, unable yet again to conceal his unbridled shock and fascination, "The Heart of the Mountain!"

"... The King's Jewel." Bard said breathlessly as he joined the elves in shared awe of the gem, "And worth a King's ransom..."

"H'anigi," Gandalf lent her a look, "is this...?"

"No, it's not an Aetheryte." she answered, "Not by itself in any case. It is, specifically speaking, the missing component of a dormant Aetheryte we found deep in Erebor's mines. How we uncovered it is a tale for another time."

"And what exactly is an Aetheryte?" the familiar-faced male elf no one had introduced to her so far asked.

"Most plainly told," Gandalf mused, "it's a form of crystal construct that allow instantaneous travel – provided your destination has an Aetheryte of its own. Aetherytes are not of this world, and many may be strewn across it."

H'anigi shook her head, "There's no may about it. An ancient nation of incalculable might once plotted a global invasion of Middle-Earth and placed many Aetherytes across its width in order to facilitate it. But due to circumstances the invasion never materialized. Now the Aetherytes are just relics, up for grabs by anyone who would like to use them."

"Relics now greatly coveted by the Enemy." he looked from her to Thranduil meaningfully, then back at her as something occurred to him, "Do you not need this to return home?"

"Yeah, but I can wait a little bit longer. This is a loan made with minimizing strife in mind."

"Thorin desire the Arkenstone above all else." Bilbo rejoined, his statement delivered strongly, "In exchange for its return he will, surely, give you what you're owed. There will be no need for war."

With this new information in mind, Bard and Thranduil exchanged glances. Now all that remained was to provide a further incentive to avoid conflict.

"Come..." H'anigi whispered commandingly before she spread her arms, "Also, just to note, if you push for war and try to take Erebor by force... the resulting butcher's bill will be a lot greater than you believe."

"You expect slightly better than a dozen combatants to exact grievous losses upon an army such as this?" Bard asked, somewhat incredulous, "It cannot be-"

All of them grew quiet as the Allagan Bit flew in at a placid pace and came to hover at what has come to be the usual place, "Now you may be wondering what this might be. This thing is, perhaps unimaginatively, referred to as a Bit. It's one of several dozen similar contraptions that acts as the Aetheryte's line of defense."

"Defense?" snorted the familiar-faced elf, less than impressed by its seemingly ungainly appearance. "That is supposed to be a warrior?"

"I wouldn't underestimate it if I were you." Bilbo offered his input solemnly with just a small tinge of fear in his tone, "Those were the things that chased Smaug from Erebor. I saw with my own eyes as they shot what I can only describe as magic upon the dragon, and effortlessly cut deeply into it like hot knife through butter. I am sure that if Smaug had not let cowardice convince him to flee, he would have been killed by them."

"Not one was lost in the process." H'anigi continued, keeping her face straight, "All of them are now beyond the gate, and will react poorly to any attempted intrusion. They're the trump card of Erebor's defense in short. Yours is the Arkenstone with which you may force negotiation and strike a bargain."

"If they have weapons of such power," Bard angrily started to ask, "would not Thorin dispatch them to have the Arkenstone retrieved?"

"Thorin is not in command of them, so that won't happen."

"Enough." Thranduil commanded as he sat down, a hand placed on his forehead like he had developed a migraine, "We thank you for this knowledge, this boon, and this warning. Make a show of force we will, but we will attempt what you ask – though I fear Oakenshield will not allow for any bargain."

"I'm aware of it. Ever since we entered the mountain he has been… difficult." Bilbo told them soberly, "Still, it is my hope that he'll see reason."

"Dwarves are stubborn."

"Stubborn. Yes... they are also pig-headed, and have the worst manners possible. But they are also kind, brave, and loyal to a fault. I have grown quite fond of them, and want to save them however I can… along with everyone else here."

 _OoOoO_

With his selfless act, Bilbo had fully cemented himself in the hearts of even those who had no previous knowledge of him. And with the miqo'te at his back he had managed to convince Thranduil not to seek conflict with the dwarves, a feat he himself failed at for much of the day and evening's worth of argument.

Gandalf took the development for the good it was.

And with the meeting soon concluded he led Bilbo and H'anigi from the tent, noting with amusement on the side on how King Thranduil had watched the miqo'te and her swishing bushy tail as they left, his countenance lit by curiosity he could not for the time being satisfy as more important matters beckoned.

But with that out of the way: "Bilbo, you must leave on the morrow."

"What?" Bilbo quacked.

"Get as far away from here as possible."

"I'm not leaving the company."

"There is no company. Not anymore."

"Not your decision to make, wizard." H'anigi interjected wryly, pointedly so, "You who left it so long ago."

"Take it into perspective. Imagine what Thorin would do if he found out what you two have done."

"He won't."

"Sufficiently canny you may very well be." Gandalf replied in kind, "Bilbo on the other hand..."

Bilbo glared with surprising strength, "I intend to volunteer my share of the treasure to pay for the Arkenstone, Gandalf. Without me on that wall to make that sacrifice, Thorin's greed may very well override what is sensible."

A sort of stillness settled at those words, born from astonishment. "My dear Bilbo." Gandalf whispered quietly, "How very much you have changed from the hobbit we brought from Hobbiton."

"Courage was not the only thing I found along the way," Bilbo nodded, his expression turning milder, "and the journey is not finished yet."

Gandalf remembered that small exchange, even if he suspected the hobbit was hiding something from him. "I suppose it isn't." he deeply sighed and turned away, "Very well. Go then, and be safe."

"Thank you. We'll talk again once all of this is over."

To this H'anigi quipped, her voice already distant; "If we last past the orcs, that is."

"… How did y-" Gandalf whipped about after a moment of astonished silence, only to find the two already gone from sight. Flummoxed, he stared at where they previously stood and wondered where in the world he said anything about orcs before, during, or after the meeting. It did not make sense for them to know there's another army approaching.

"Mithrandir."

During his troubled rumination, a tall elf woman, Thranduil's Captain of the Guard herself, had come from the tent with an expression strangely meek. "Tauriel, yes?"

"I am she."

Gandalf nodded gravely, "Have you come bearing a message from your King?"

"No, I come by my own choice." Tauriel replied as she… fidgeted? "I have a confession to make, and share this with no one but you."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Not too happy about this chapter turned out, but it'll have to suffice. Anyway, in the next chapter the Battle of the Five Armies will begin.

Answer to comments:

Merlinius Ambrosius: Oh I did enjoy the patch very much. And the Ascians' involvement might turn for the truly devilish indeed.

Wolfund: Balin's wise, but not all-knowing. That doesn't mean he's doomed to die in this story though.

Kairitrion Cerulean: Thank you.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Turmoil and Admission**

* * *

All too soon the morning came. What remained of the night had blazed by after the conversation Gandalf held with Tauriel who revealed to him what part she played in recent events, after his departure from the company. And that they're expecting an attack by orcs because she told onto them her honest assessment of what could happen if Erebor's returned to dwarven hands. So when she was eventually called away, leaving Gandalf to brood till the first light of day rose from the horizon. There was no time left for schemes. Almost all of the pieces are in place, and now what remained to them was for them to play their parts.

It was on this note he made his return to Bard the Bowman and King Thranduil, to join in the march to Erebor. Bard chose for himself a great black stallion, while the Elven King rode forth on his majestic elk.

Gandalf on his part stayed on foot.

From the ruins of Dale there boiled forth a great display that crossed onto the plains from every path available and there seamlessly formed into a massive golden legion arrayed impeccably, arranged into flawless formations, the face of every elven warrior invariably stoic and severe – compared to which the small number of men among them even uniformly clad in armor and weapons are little more than barely organized if hearty rabble.

The old wizard gazed toward Erebor's great wall, its defenders already assembled but entirely without bravado at what they faced for entirely understandable reasons as the two thousand strong legion of elves fully formed and marched forward, perfectly synchronized, like a gigantic creature lumbering onward with a single indomitable intent. Beneath them the earth shook and thundered with the simultaneous multitudes of footfalls.

Even if the opposition have powerful secret weapons in store, they'd still take pause at such a display of arms.

Gandalf followed in the King and Bowman's wake as they moved to the fore, their going made easy as the forces ahead of them parted like water to make way. Before long the two cleared the army that by then had dressed a large stretch of the plateau's length in resplendent gold. Gandalf stopped well before that, spectation being for now his chosen role.

Just as Thorin did from his wall on high.

Until he took up a bow and shot an arrow that struck stone just a foot short of Thranduil's largely unperturbed elk, an action born either from boundless arrogance or utter madness. "I will put the next one between your eyes!" Thorin exclaimed, causing his dwarven compatriots to shout in approval.

No one seemed particularly impressed by the clamorous display, and Thranduil least of all who in a moment of absent-minded idleness let the raucous cries continue for a pregnant moment before he inclined his head by a fraction, and prompted a whole dozen rows of elven arches to nock their bows in perfect unison.

The dwarves took this for what it was and ducked from sight, their prior bravado forgotten.

Only Thorin remained standing, openly defiant, an arrow still drawn.

After a brief but intensely suspenseful trice stretched between them, the Elven King raised an arm. Accordingly his archers lowered their bows and returned the drawn arrows to their quivers.

"We have come to tell you," he called out, tone quite civil, "payment for your debt has been offered and accepted."

Thorin's expression twisted under a deluge of general incomprehension. "What payment?" he asked confusedly, "I gave you nothing. You have nothing."

For a reply, Thranduil looked to Bard who reached into his jacket and brought from it the Arkenstone. "We have this." the bowman declared as he held the crystal up for the dwarves to see.

Shock rippled across the dwarven onlookers while Thorin lowered his blow, gaze fixed upon the prize he desired the most. "They have the Arkenstone." Kili exclaimed in naked outrage, "Thieves! How came you by the heirloom of our house?! That stone belongs to the King!"

"And the King may have it, with our goodwill." Bard stated plainly as he returned the gem to his pocket.

Thorin narrowed his eyes in abject hatred.

"But first, we want compensation. Our town suffered grievously under the onslaught of the dragon you so recklessly awoke. We lost our homes, and many of our people... their blood spilled by both the dragon... and what followed after."

"... They are playing us for fools." Thorin growled to his compatriots as the words sank in, "This is a ruse. A filthy lie. The Arkenstone is still in the mountain! It is a trick!"

"It isn't." H'anigi loudly interjected from just out of sight, her voice causing many of the townsfolk to wrinkle their brows in confusion, "An enormous quantity of aether's emanating from that gem. There's not a sliver of doubt in my mind about its authenticity. It is real."

Remarkably even Gandalf found himself unable to make heads or tails of that.

The dwarves on the other hand appeared less confused by her statement than the mystery of how the Arkenstone could have possibly ended up in the hands of those outside. Her outburst in any case lent courage to one who was less than enthused with the prospect of battle: "I concur," Balin joined in, "the stone is real. Not ever would I forget its radiance."

At this Thorin was temporarily taken off-balance as he looked from side to side on those who had spoken out, sputtering ineffectually before he recovered. "If that should be the truth of it, who would allow for their share of the fortune, earned through a journey made by blood, sweat, and tears?"

"I will." declared none other than Bilbo, surprising Thorin who turned to stare. "Waking Smaug from his slumber was my mistake. I was careless, and many people suffered for it. Thus... I would offer up my fourteenth share of the treasure to the survivors of Lake-town's ruin, for they need it more than I ever will."

Gandalf smiled and nodded his approval just as astonishment rippled through the crowd of lake-men far behind him, startled by how the situation has developed. Not yet did the situation require him to step in, though he did not rule out the possibility that he might have to soon as Thorin grew ever more cornered.

"Give us your answer, Thorin Oakenshield." Bard pressed, "Will you choose peace and allow the exchange that will give to your hand what is yours, or will you choose war and lose it all?"

Thorin stiffened, the expression of one who has chewed on a treat most sour now stuck on his face. "I choose..." he croaked haltingly after a long moment of searching desperately for a third option, both choices equally unpalatable for him.

Unfortunately, just as Thorin seemed on the verge of accepting the exchange, a raven black as night flew in and perched atop the wall at his side – its gaze fixed upon the dwarf who found in its eyes the third option he so longed for. And so it was that Thorin turned to the eastern horizon and growled, "I will not allow any exchange in return for what is rightfully mine! I will not recognize your right to receive compensation! I choose war!"

Dismay took Gandalf in its grip of ice, understanding what the raven's appearance meant before he even heard the thunder of heavy drums come from the east, as an army of dwarves many hundreds strong covered in heavy armor and broad shields, armed with mattocks and spears, crested the mountainous hill.

And at its forefront, riding his war boar, the old wizard could see the unmistakable visage of Dáin Ironfoot. Thorin's second cousin.

Sometime in the days before, Thorin had sent a call to the Iron Hills for aid.

And they, had answered the call.

 _OoOoO_

Such progress had been made. Thorin was almost about to give up under all the pressure applied by friends and foes alike, only for him to recover every bit of ice as those he hoped would come and reinforce them made their belated arrival, led on by an officious dwarf whose armor didn't shine like the carpet of gold-clad elves but was far more ornate than those worn by his warriors, his weapon a massive hammer. That mount of his, however, would have looked far more impressive if it was available for eating.

But overall, those reinforcements could have stood to arrive a little later.

H'anigi lamented the lost opportunity, and watched as the situation developed far beyond her and Bilbo's control. Bravado returned to the dwarven compatriots, this time far less empty, as they cheered and hollered and cried in relief at the sight.

Below them the Elven King and Bard repositioned to face the new front while the former issued an order in elvish. A soft-spoken order that somehow carried, and made all those thousands of elven warriors as one make a ninety degree turn so perfectly that it was eerie to face the dwarven army, their subsequent advance even for no more than a short distance so swift that the far less disciplined lake-men had to break into a run to keep up.

Dáin meanwhile made an ample demonstration of how big and hard a pair he's got as he brought his army to a halt and lumbered down completely without fear to meet those he now faced. Casual enough that he even found time to raise his hammer and called out to Thorin, causing the shouts around her to turn even louder.

And he continued to advance till he found an outcrop near the bottom of the hill and had his boar stop atop of it, "Good morning!" he spoke loudly to the vast carpet of elves and men in a congenial fashion, "How are we all?"

"I've a wee proposition if you wouldn't mind giving me a little bit of yer time." Dáin continued, all civil-like, "Would ye consider... just SODDING OFF! ALL OF YE, RIGHT NOW!"

Honestly, given who he was related to by blood, H'anigi did not quite know what else she expected from this dwarf. It was nevertheless one hell of a bombastic statement to make when he was literally within range of every archer, and his voice carried with such strength that all but one of the lake-men momentarily shrank away. "Stand fast!" Bard cried out, reigning in his troops.

"Come now, Lord Dáin!" Gandalf surfaced from the army, to the shock of every dwarf around her, his tone polite.

Dáin was less obliging, "Gandalf the Grey. Tell this rabble to leave, or I'll water the ground with their blood!"

"There is no need," the old wizard stressed, "for war between dwarves, men, and elves."

"I beg to differ!" Thorin shouted, half of him and his voice made of ice, "These lowly thieves have stolen the Arkenstone!"

"Well." Dáin nodded in understanding as he hefted his war-hammer, "That simplifies matters even more! We'll not stand down, specially not before any elf, not least this faithless woodland sprite!" glaring fiercely at the Elven King before he turned away and went back up the hill.

Gandalf, clearly not done, shouted out, "Dáin, wait!"

"Let him advance." Thranduil smirked confidently at the retreating dwarf lord, "See how far they get."

"Ye think I give a dead dog for yer threat, ye pointy-eared princess?" Dáin shouted over his shoulder – H'anigi in spite of herself let go an amused snort at that and decided she liked that crotchety dwarf – then snapped his head forward, addressing the troops, "Ye hear that lads, we're on! Let's give these bastards a good hammering!"

"It begins." Thorin said breathlessly, alive with anticipation as shouts erupted from the dwarven lines, their every word largely unintelligible to H'anigi though the implied meaning was clear.

By then the loud shouts and raucous cheers that came from those dwarves beside her had died down, replaced by intense concentration, fixated by the soul-stirring developments that followed as Dáin summoned forth a mighty wave of massed cavalry that with a great war cry plunged toward the elves.

Truth be told, H'anigi was likewise transfixed as she watched the elves retaliate with such great volleys of arrows that they seemed like great arching clouds, each one summarily rendered ineffectual as dwarven ballistas from far out of sight let loose great javelins with spinning tails that not only rushed through the offending clouds and dispersed them, but continued on and reaped a hefty toll on the stalwart elves, who each time even through the shock of what they've never happened upon before recovered and reshuffled to meet the many hundreds of riders, and the thousand or more foot soldiers who came charging in their wake, spearheaded by Dáin himself who upended elves entirely with the great blows dealt as he barged through.

Every notion of tactics and strategy got thrown to the wind as the two armies soon intermixed into a colossal whirling melee. A brawl of such epic proportions that H'anigi had to restrain herself from wanting to join in as bloodlust threatened to boil onto the surface.

Intent on banishing this intoxication from her mind, H'anigi tore her gaze away and stumbled from the battlement to squat down, a hand placed over her eyes.

"H'anigi!" she heard Bilbo exclaim, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just need to center myself for a moment." the miqo'te replied tersely, with a deep sigh, "Nothing more, nothing..." as she looked over her shoulder at the hobbit who looked so very pale from what this had all turned into. But instead of concern, what crystallized in her mind was confusion as she focused past Bilbo and came to stare at the top of a distant and very narrow butte, where a trio of strange signal flags had been raised, a few strange figures standing besides. "Balin..." H'anigi started confusedly, drawing a perplexed look from the aging dwarf, "What is that?"

Balin narrowed his eyes and he followed her line of sight till he found the very same peculiarity and issued a muted gasp, "Thorin! Orcs!"

Everyone else snapped their attention away from the battle with that information. "They must have set it up while we were distracted." Dwalin growled at the sight, "I can only think of one orc so audacious."

"Azog." Thorin concluded.

"That can only mean..." Bombur added perturbedly.

Neither did he have to finish that statement, nor was there any need to ask as to the location of Azog's legion, for what followed immediately after was the eruption of a tremor so localized, so foreboding and ominous that both armies ceased their battle almost on the spot in favor of staring at where the sound came from till _something_ emerged. H'anigi slowly stood as several massive worms stabbed forth from the soil like great towers of flesh.

H'anigi stared wide-eyed at those enormous creatures, almost too afraid to ask, "W-what are those?"

"Were-worms." hissed Óin.

"I've heard stories of them," Bilbo breathed as he too watched, "but I thought they were but myth."

She shook her head, "Looks awfully real to me."

With each their roar, the were-worms pulled themselves back into the holes they made and vanished along with all the sound, deepening the silence till Azog spread his arms and boomed out words of a language that sounded simultaneously dark and unclean, issued with the force of an order. A command followed by the blowing of a great horn for the sake of sheer emphasis.

To this call, an army covered in black armor and blacker weapons marched from the holes left by the were-worms and quickly spread like a taint as they swarmed outward in such massive numbers that swiftly did they eclipse the combined elf, men, and dwarf armies, their single-minded intent all too obvious. Alongside the multitude of orcs, dozens of tall and brutish gigas also marched, each larger, more ugly, and more heavily armored than the last.

A nightmarish horde, truly.

"I'm going over the wall!" Fili declared his intention, unwilling to just sit on the sidelines and watch, "Who's coming with me?"

"Aye!" cried Óin.

Dwalin hollered in agreement, joined by several more cheers, "Come on, let's go!"

"Stand down." Thorin demanded, dismissive in his contempt.

"What?" Óri blurted out, the boisterous mood instantly gone.

"Are we supposed to do nothing?!" Bofur in a burst of indignation demanded.

The older dwarf did not relent as he walked down the stairs, to head back inside, "I said stand down!"

A sullen silence laced with incredulity settled as the dwarves stared blankly yet frustratedly at their leader's withdrawal and the struggle far from the wall. H'anigi on her side was largely unsurprised, her expectations of him having long since hit rock bottom, even as she fumed in rising anger over the knowledge that he would stoop so low as to abandon his own family.

This, would not do.

Ignorant of what has taken place behind them, the elves and dwarves now engaged the orcs, equal in their cold and bitter hatred, while the men – too few to contribute to the open battle – scurried back to Dale with all haste, a decision quickly proven wise on Bard's part as Azog soon opened up a second front and laid siege.

But it did not take long before Dwalin was more than fed up with the situation as the battle developed unfavorably. Parts of Dale was turned aflame, and the elves slowly edged toward the town as losses mounted, even if it meant leaving the dwarves to fend for themselves against the force that already outnumbered both forces several times over without including a number of gigas that went about in a manner reminiscent of a man squashing insects underfoot. With a brusque growl Dwalin pushed himself from the battlement and took to the stairs.

"Going to see Thorin?" H'anigi inquired seriously.

Dwalin audibly gritted his teeth, "Yes."

"Mind if I tag along?"

"You too have words for him?"

H'anigi narrowed her slitted eyes as she strode down a few steps, every gaze resting on her, "I have some of those, and more."

The brown-bearded dwarf brought himself to a halt, narrowing his eyes in the same manner as he glanced back up at her, "What do you mean?"

Her ears twitched in agitation, "Nothing deadly, but nothing gentle either. Thorin gets one chance to wake up and make the right choice. Or be abandoned like as much refuse. Do you have any objection to that?"

"You suggest for us to confront him outright, no holds barred." Dwalin sighed deeply, rubbing his temples, "Like my brother Balin and every other soul here, I want to believe that Thorin will come around and return to us... but he has this time gone too far. So no, I do not object. In fact I am done with walking on eggshells. All of ye, muster!"

"All of us?" Bilbo asked.

"All of ye." he repeated, "If we're going to give him a message, we might as well hammer it in."

Dori looked unsure, "What about the wall?"

"Even with all of us this wall can't be held against the numbers out there." Dwalin bluntly delivered, with finality, as he continued on his way down, "Leave this place for now to those blasted machines. Now come, we do this now while our kindred are still alive out there."

With tail raised high in grim approval, H'anigi closely followed the dwarf who now acted far more the leader than the poor excuse within the mountain city, and smiled as the others fell in with them. "Do you know where he went?"

"Only one place comes to mind." he answered tersely, "The throne room."

 _OoOoO_

Conventionally when dealing with legions of orcs, the rule of thumb was to hunt down their leaders and put them down by any means necessary. While any army bereft of their leadership would fall apart, the orcs are more susceptible to defeat than any others in the wake of such a loss. Such is it with a people so corrupted, with such penchant for evil. Orcs are friends to no one, not even each other, and fall upon one another at every one chance. It takes truly exceptional orcs to build an army of any considerable size, and the larger it is... the more it spoke for the ability and the fearsomeness of these individuals.

Azog's one such individual, which made him a threat of the highest order.

Slaying him would unbalance the scales enough for victory to be won. Yet even as Gandalf contemplated the means to achieve this he was continuously confronted with the desperation of their current reality.

When the orcs first emerged, it was Bard he chose to follow, who made sure to have all non-combatants evacuated to the town hall, so to allow the sparse numbers of his militia to concentrate their defense across a much smaller front than they would otherwise have been forced to cover. Routes made up of mostly narrow streets that made it difficult for the orcs to properly leverage their vastly superior numbers.

Provided that they survive this, Bard would make an excellent King.

For now Gandalf busied himself with aiding in their spirited defense all the while he sought for any opening that might expose Azog to counterattack. A search that remained on his mind as he stabbed his sword, Glamdring, through the left eye of an offending orc then withdrew it just in time to swing at the creature that came howling from the side, only to lose its head as the wizened wizard completed the swing in so clean and swift a motion that Glamdring was not at all tainted by even a droplet of its black blood.

Without pause he brought up the staff held in his other hand and jabbed its head into the helmet of another orc hard enough to send it staggering back till a man, one of several who for now fought alongside him, ran it through with a spear.

A deed that together with the death of another orc rendered this street strangely quiet – strange as till now the orcs haven't failed to supply a continuous stream of reinforcements.

The reason why became clear to him as a battalion of clearly weathered elves appeared with yet more following in their wake, Thranduil and his son Legolas among them.

Gandalf sheathed his sword and approached them, "Hail, lord Thrandiul. It is good to see that you remain among the living."

"Yes, but many of my warriors aren't." Thranduil intoned bitterly, "I would abandon this place entire if my son did not provide such compelling argument."

"If we do not end Azog here, he will sometime strike at our woodland realm." Legolas said, probably reciting said argument, while their troops passed dozens at a time, "One way or another, we must fell the wretch here."

"I in full agree." Gandalf nodded, feeling quite pleased, "But for now all we can do is defend. I advice that you find Bard and with him plan a defense."

"And I shall." Thranduil declared as he summarily departed.

"Legolas." he proceeded to address, "Where is Tauriel?"

The blond elf looked back the way he came with a little longing, "She's leading our rearguard. Why?"

He was about to list as to why when a loud blare courtesy of a distant orc horn promptly cut them short in what was clearly a call to attention. Gandalf looked away to Azog's position and found the signal flags slightly altered. Exactly what message they conveyed Gandalf knew not, this signal system was new to him, but he could make a fair guess based on the responding howls that came from too close for comfort. "So much for our reprieve." he muttered gravely as the cries were joined by a clash of arms.

 _OoOoO_

No words could encapsulate the sadness Dwalin felt as he and those with him entered Erebor's throne room, where they found Thorin seated on his throne, his eyes sunken and distant, like he saw a world none of them could perceive. A sadness he pushed away to allow for the belated outburst of anger the likes of which he has never shown to his friend.

Most of their compatriots slowed to a stop before the narrow path that led up to the throne, leaving no more than himself and H'anigi close behind to advance the remainder of the way.

From Thorin there was not even a trace of acknowledgment.

It only made Dwalin all the angrier. "Since when do we forsake our own people?" he said, bitterness in every syllable, "Thorin, they are dying out there."

Thorin looked entirely unaffected as he looked slowly around and sat up straight, eyes foggy and unclear, "There are halls beneath halls within this mountain. Places we can fortify... shore up, make safe."

"Yes." he continued and stood, "Yes, that is it. We must move the gold further underground, to safety."

"Did you hear me?" Dwalin pressed, "Dáin is surrounded! They are being slaughtered, Thorin."

"Many die in war." Thorin replied quietly, unaffected, "Life is cheap. But a treasure such as this cannot be counted in lives lost."

"You're wrong about that, Thorin." H'anigi countered in obvious disgust, "Without a people alive and safe, prosperous, in a position to spend it, that treasure is worthless."

His nostrils flared as if that counted as a grave slight, "It is worth all the blood we can spare, she-cat!"

"Thorin, you sit in these vast halls," Dwalin shook his head, despairing over what the dwarf he thought he knew had turned into, "with a crown upon your head. And yet you are lesser now than you have ever been."

"Do not speak to me," the heir to Erebor's crown growled, quietly incensed. "as if I were some lowly dwarf lord. As if... I were..." his words slowed, as though in pain.

"Thorin... Oakenshield." Dwalin said, with feeling.

Immediately the seeming pain was gone as Thorin snapped in erratic rage and pulled his sword free and swung it impotently across a wide arc. "I am your King!" he cried out... only to be ignobly cut off upon the completion of his swing as H'anigi took a couple of fast strides forward, balled her right hand, and struck it hard into the side of his face.

Dwalin watched, surprised at how passive he was at the sight when usually he would have intervened immediately on his old friend's behalf. Instead he just spectated coldly as Thorin, cheek already bruising, lost the hold on his sword and wheeled into his throne while bleating confusedly at the sudden agony.

It was a sad turn of events, but he could not argue with the results as Thorin was stunned and his eyes finally snapped into focus.

"King... you?" H'anigi chuckled mockingly, in disbelief, "Big talk coming from a blind fool whose only concern is saving the riches over his own people, to whom you're obligated to be the servant, their safety and prosperity ever on your mind! Even one such as me understand what a ruler's duty is. Once upon a time you probably understood that too, before you turned into this miserable thing."

"D-do not claim," Thorin breathed, seething, "that you know of our ways."

" _Your_ ways." she pointed out, "Yours and yours only, blind fool."

"She-cat," his voice shook, "don't you dare to call me-"

"Act like a piece of shite, and I'll treat you like one!" H'anigi snapped sharply, tail wagging slowly as she focused on him singularly, "It's far more than you deserve."

Thorin let go a shuddering growl while he brought a gloved hand to the bruise building up on his cheek, apoplectic in his barely restrained fury.

"Now that I have your attention, how about I hand you something to mull over, homework if you will?" the marauder cocked her head, smiling wryly, "To do so though, I'll have to reveal a little secret of mine."

Dwalin raised a brow, curious how that could be relevant to this matter.

"You see, many years ago when I first arrived on Limsa... I was fairly destitute, with few coins to my name, and a bastard of a bad time to arrive. " H'anigi continued, her countenance sad, "Found no job, and I worried that I'd end up a beggar or harlot. It went ever further downhill till I hit rock bottom and went to a bar and tried to drink away my sorrows. There I wound up recruited into the Serpent's Jaw. Sounds like I was lucky... except for the niggling little detail about it being a pirate crew whose Captain just happened to be on the lookout for people nimble on their feet to supplement all the muscle he had."

The wannabe King narrowed his eyes.

"So as a consequence I wound up trained to be a marauder by his first mate, and turned into one hell of a pirate... I didn't receive the moniker Black Axe for no reason. And as you may suspect, inevitably I've taken part in the plundering of many mercantile ships on the high seas. Plundering, intimidating, stealing, that kind of stuff."

"And that is relevant how?" Thorin echoed Dwalin's thought.

"Well, you see, the crew had a certain set of ironclad rules. A few of them in particular might just surprise you, Thorin." the miqo'te said in a near-whisper that was still heard across the vast emptiness of the chamber, "They could be summarized thus: Under no circumstances are you allowed to put yourself in any unnecessary danger. Your life and those of your crewmates are more important than any amount of gold that might be on the line!"

A measure of comprehension washed over Dwalin as she spoke, understanding where she's going.

"Sounds strange coming from a band of brigands, but we were to begin with a bunch of people who shared a past of destitution where we had no other way to go. Our shared desire was to survive and prosper, and our Captain consequently valued each one of us, none of whom he shared any relation with, more than he did material riches. No amount of plunder was worth it if we died before we could spend our share of it."

"So tell me, Thorin." she inclined slightly as she arrived at the critical point of this reveal, "What does that say about _you_ , a _King_ , who would choose gold over your own _kin_?"

The question resounded in the chamber. Piercing to the extent that Thorin was rendered speechless, like his own mother had just slapped him.

 _Verily it struck home..._ Dwalin thought in mirthless triumph.

"Silence is your answer. Speaks volumes of your worth." H'anigi finished frigidly as she turned her back to him and sauntered away, "I've said my piece. Do what you will with it."

That left only Dwalin to punctuate and bring this ugly affair to an end, "You were always my King, Thorin, and you used to understand why. But you have strayed, and with that I offer only one chance to you. We will wait a little further for you to once again find the right path, the path of the honorable Thorin Oakenshield we all so admired. If you cannot..."

Dwalin closed his eyes and followed the miqo'te till they met with the rest at the far end where he finished the sentence so their leader could hear him: "then... you're our King no longer."

As a final gesture, they all left the chamber in silence, leaving the shocked Thorin all alone.

 _OoOoO_

"Fall back!" Dáin called out.

An orc roared a curse to his face, a scimitar held high.

Dáin promptly introduced the creature's head to its chest cavity with a hammer blow brought down from even higher. "Wasn't talking to ye." a snort left him, "Now where were we? Oh ya, fall back ye lot!"

Jokes aside, the situation turned grimmer by the minute as no matter how many orcs his people felled, more crawled out of the woodwork to fill out whichever gaps opened wide. Dáin stared with due severity at the rock solid wall of shields and armor the orcs just reformed into on Azog's instruction. And far in the back he could see several more armored trolls move toward the front line, no doubt to be the vanguard for another push. "Fall back!" he called again to his folks who in a staggered line, all of them exhausted or injured, retreated ever closer to the walls of Erebor, the mountain looming over them with all the poise of a corner.

Like cornered rats they all currently are.

But more of a concern... where's Thorin? Dáin peered at the gates and saw not even one dwarf on the battlement. More than anything what his folks needed, what he needed, was for Thorin to come forth.

 _Has Thorin abandoned us? Has the gold sickness sunk its claws into him?_

Dáin shook his head.

No, he wouldn't. Thorin dared venture where entire armies did not with only a few companions at his side, and succeeded. For him to let them fall at this juncture was... unthinkable. Dáin gripped his hammer hard, saddened by the dismal possibility, unlikely as it was, and prepared for what might very well be the end.

 _OoOoO_

"Here it comes! Stay in cover down there!"

After the shout came a rain of worn debris from around the large hatch built into the ceiling as it was with a thud and a slam of wood stone flung open by the full half of the company that went upstairs with Dwalin when they got back to the gates, beyond which the clamor of war still went on, though closer now as Dáin and his forces lost ground to the orc army that for all their losses was large enough as to seem undiminished. Yet Dwalin's first decision was to have a bell lowered.

Between distant grunts of tooth-grinding effort, metal screamed as the item within was lowered step by cautious step, every lurch implying an object of immense size and weight.

H'anigi did not watch it being lowered, having decided she'd rather be just out of the way, behind a pile of debris, and wait it out. She was not at all keen to be in the open where any number of small stones could wind up thrown about like clumsy projectiles should the chains break and allow the humongous item to plummet.

Alongside her sat Bilbo who shared pretty much the same sentiment, content to leave this application of heavy labor to the dwarves' vaunted expertise.

"So you're a... pirate too, huh?" Bilbo tried to strike a conversation, the air between them awkward after her admission to Thorin.

"Not anymore, Bilbo." she exhaled the answer, "It's been two years since I switched to a pick."

"Yes, yes of course."

After a few moments of silence broken by what progress was made in the background, Bilbo turned to her again, "Was it... you feeling penitent that made you stop?"

Annoyance crept into H'anigi's mind, a hint of it transferring onto her voice as she answered, "All the things I told you and the others before that was the truth. If there was at all a lie someplace beside the omission, it was implying the transition to Limsa was an easy one. You can draw your answer from there."

"Um... I see." the hobbit winced, "B-but if you could make amends for the things you did, would you?"

"In a perfect world, I probably, maybe, would. But reality being what it is, I won't consider doing so for even a second." stated H'anigi bluntly, "If I tried, soon as they stopped laughing at my foolishness they'd either stow me away in an oubliette for the rest of my life, or I would have been put on the chopping block, or hanged, or drowned."

Bilbo turned slightly green, "Y-you could..."

"No, I wouldn't consider going through with it even if I had all the twelve-cursed treasure at my disposal. The authorities and trading cartels would just assume I stole that fortune from somewhere."

"All I can do is carry my sins with me, keep my head down, and cause no further trouble." H'anigi declared with finality as she tilted nimbly forward then unfolded to stand, "Don't compare your situation with mine. There's no easy way out for me."

At that moment came a decisive clunk, followed by Bofur's appearance, "Oi, we're done over here! Come on out!"

"We're coming." the miqo'te replied evenly as she followed him out, and on the way spared a quick look at Bilbo who looked distinctly thoughtful, "I'd prefer if we just forgot about this line of conversation. It's nowhere near the time for it, and I would prefer to exclude it from further discourse."

That said she entered the open and looked upon the item, suspended just a couple of feet off the ground by two thick chains of golden metal. A giant bell made of solid gold. Its size especially telling when compared to the dwarves that surrounded it, in the process of putting several lengths of rope around it.

"Um," H'anigi found herself at a momentary lack of words, "care to share with class what you intend to use this here for?"

Dwalin turned to her, "This," he patted the massive ornament, "we're gonna use it for a wrecking ball. To bring down the wall."

"Ain't possible to get Dáin and his folks inside in swift order without doing that much." Nori joined in as he swiped some sweat from his brows.

"From the beginning the wall was made to be easily collapsible by pressure coming from the inside." Glóin spoke up in turn while he fastened a thick rope, "So the bell always played part in our consideration."

"Bombur, did you find one?" Dwalin shouted toward the entry hall as the fat dwarf made his return.

"Aye." Bombur confirmed, patting the big and mostly ivory horn he practically wore, "Ready to blow the call to retreat on your say-so."

"Good, get into position, we start right away!"

With a quick nod the corpulent chef made for the stairs while everyone else got in position to leverage the bell with those ropes fastened to it. A process brought to a halt when Kili looked behind them, and uttered a single word with mixed feeling, "Uncle..."

H'anigi had just gone and seized one of the ropes alongside Balin and Bifur when that word was uttered. Like a magic chant, it made every dwarf lose hold and turn to appraise the one who had decided to come from his empty throne. She did too, and found Thorin to be without both crown and armor. Just the traveling clothes did he wear alongside his sword and a small shield.

It was progress to say the least.

"We will idle no more behind a wall of stone." Kili continued for them as he strode clear from the crowd, deeply indignant, "Not while others fight our battles for us!"

Thorin continued to approach, silent and appraising.

"It's not in my blood, Thorin."

"No." the elder answered finally, solemnly but with a trace of regret, as they met face to face. "It is not. We are sons of Durin... and Durin's folk..." Thorin slowly issued a smile more genuine than any he's made in many days, "do not flee from a fight."

Briefly did they meet forehead to forehead before Thorin strode past his nephew and addressed all the rest of them, "I have no right to ask this of any of you, but will you follow me one last time?"

If his appearance wasn't like magic, his words most certainly were as a change came upon the gathered dwarves, a hope lit by Thorin's apparent change of heart. H'anigi said nothing to this change and simply spectated, letting it all play out. It would seem a strict talking to was about all he needed to get his head on straight.

"We're with you, Thorin." Balin spoke for all of them, but in the manner of someone about to provide a test, "What will you have us do?"

"Bring the wall down."

Satisfaction rippled across the crowd.

"Bombur, issue the call to arms."

Dwalin's brows furrowed, "For what reason? We intended to have Dáin withdraw into Erebor."

"We will not hide from our enemies this time, my friend." Thorin retaliated if softly, "This time... we hunt them."

He glanced her way, with much less hostility than he did before, "H'anigi, can you make those machines go on the attack?"

"I'll see what I can do." H'anigi answered with a nod and parted from the crowd, fishing the tomestone from her pocket while doing so, all of her attention on it while Thorin ordered everyone to get armed and ready. "Looks like you're up."

 _Orders?_ Guidance Node deadpanned.

"There's a big battle out there," she informed, "and the crystal you need is also there. I aim to collect it. But to actually get it... many needs to die first."

 _Acknowledged. Specify Targets._

"No killing those who look like hyur, neither can you kill those who resemble elezen. Not the bearded folks who are with me, and those of their kin outside. Neither can you blast the old man oozing aether." H'anigi informed, aware that the Guidance Node wouldn't know the names of the native peoples, "As for the rest, especially the gigas, go ahead and put them all down."

 _Understood._ Guidance Node trilled lazily, the menace of its subsequent declaration such that a cold shiver shot down her spine. _Extermination_ _Protocol Engaged. Revocation Of Existential Rights Will Commence On Your Mark. Glory To Allag. Glory To Xande._

 _OoOoO_

Many times over the course of his life did Dáin wonder how he'd feel if he by some circumstance was faced with certain death. Would he feel despair or determination? Would he be brave, or surrender to cowardice? Dáin did not know the answer to either of these questions till now, and never expected to find that he felt none of those things. All that registered was a sort of fully grounded serenity, a persuasive acceptance that was completely outlandish yet felt perfectly at home.

"Aw, this is so not a good time to think about that lotta crap." Dále blurted, and caused whoever among his remaining – about four or five hundred tops – warriors had enough presence of mind to peer briefly at him before they resumed their defiant stance as the line of approaching trolls finally passed the closest regiment and took up position like a set of teeth it sure as hell had no need for.

Azog's idea of overkill.

Subsequently the orc horn was sounded and the orcs resumed their deadly march.

"Kinsfolk." Dáin called out, "It has been an honor. Fight well, give them not the satisfaction of an easy ki-"

Another horn then joined the chorus, one that sounded the dwarven call to arms, followed by a titanic crash as the makeshift portion of the wall crumbled before the momentum of a huge bell of pure resplendent gold. Yet even this show of disassembly paled before what came after. Like a legend of old, Thorin emerged from the dark with both fury and thunder in his steps. While strangely bereft of armor he was no less impressive as he stared down Azog's fearsome legion like it was no more than a nuisance and charged with his sword held high, and a roar that was emulated by his trusty companions who followed closely in his wake.

Fire returned to Dáin as he looked on, and the words simply tore from his throat, all exhaustion and abandonment of hope forgotten. "To the King!" Dáin shouted at the top of his lungs as he planted an unexpectedly easy step forward and joined the charge, "To the King!"

No one disobeyed. Every warrior knew as if by instinct that this fellow's their King, and they followed. What was a routed force thus turned instantly into a rolling avalanche of dwarven will and steel, so determined to slaughter the creatures who dared to defile the King's view with their presence that the orcs recoiled and shrank away in fear.

Yet, as if this was not enough, even the heavens seemed to reach out to bring due punishment. Or at least that was what it seemed as dozens of odd creatures or machines flew over the walls of Erebor and fell upon the orcs in much greater promptness and speed than the dwarves could muster.

All of the trolls up front died immediately as the machines speared through them with lances of light, the armor worn by them seeming to be of no help at all as they boiled away just as quickly as the flesh underneath turned to as much vapor.

Not at all satisfied with only this much, hundreds of orcs proceeded to die in much the same manner as the things went on to zigzag and strafe both the following regiment and the forces beyond at dizzying speeds, meticulous in their approach.

Dáin had not the foggiest notion as to what those contraptions are, but that was utterly immaterial to the situation. They're killing orcs, and that's all that mattered. Everything else was just so much window dressing.

Instead he devoted himself to dispatching what remained of the orcs right in front of him. A shell-shocked orc just ahead tried to wheel away from him, unable to reconcile itself with the destruction wrought on its dismantled regiment.

Dáin swung his hammer and crushed the creature's ugly mug into its head, then kicked it over before he went on to his next victim and brought it low as well with a quick application of hammer upside its head

When all you have is a hammer, everything else looks like a nail.

And he treated every orc he could reach as such. Dáin only paused when the opposing regiment was little but a pile of ash and corpses, and marveled at how little time it took to accomplish before he peered across the fields ahead and saw how the other orc forces crumbled as the machines strafed and raked them with fire and death again and again without mercy. Some arrows were launched skyward, but these did very little to such swift and erratic constructs. Most of the time these archers only got themselves killed for the effort.

Satisfaction filled him when he next craned his neck to see Raven Hill, from where Azog commanded his army. The activity amidst the signal flags appeared panicked to say the least as Azog and his staff tried to reign in his already scattered legion.

Victory's just within reach.

Dáin turned as he noticed someone approach and smiled at Thorin who rode on one of the few surviving rams, its original rider likely long dead by now. "Thorin!" he called in greeting as they shook hands, "Ye picked one hell of a time to come out and help."

"Apologies, Dáin." Thorin smiled in more genuine a manner than Dáin could ever remember, "Had some tumult of mind I only just managed to overcome, with help from my friends."

"Was that bruise a part of it?"

Thorin placed a gloved hand on his cheek, and nodded, "Call it... concussive treatment if you may. I was not myself at the time."

Dáin nodded, "What will ye do now?"

His second cousin gazed toward Raven Hill with a certain menace in his eyes, "I aim to cut off the snake's pale head."

"Nay, ye shouldn't." he understood but could not agree, "Ye're our King, Thorin."

"All the more reason why I must do it."

"Thorin..."

"I am not going alone." Thorin smiled as a ram-driven chariot emerged from the crowd, complete with a crew of five. Four of them from his company along with a... woman? "We ride!" he called and they passed.

Dáin just stared at the sleek and tailed women who held on for dear life, who as they left him shouted out to him, "Worry not, that boar of yours over yonder still looks good for eating!"

"Oh good." was the only answer he could muster for a dumbfounded moment before fire lit from his throat, "Oi, that's _my_ boar yer talking about! Don't ye dare touch her!"

 _OoOoO_

Aside from boats, Middle-Earthen transportation seemed to not agree with H'anigi at all as she clutched to the sparse handholds offered by the back of the chariot. She had indeed complained about being ordered to get on at first, but Thorin wanted his finest warriors alongside for his confrontation with Azog. Apparently she was counted as one among them next to Balin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili.

Unfortunately this meant leaving Bilbo and the rest who for now fought alongside Dáin.

Meanwhile, Guidance Node kept a running tally in her head that had already stretched beyond two thousand, with another score or two added every few seconds.

It was no longer a battle, but a slaughter.

That only left her rising motion sickness to worry about as Balin seemed all too eager to aim for the worst terrain, each bump and jump followed by sprays of arterial blood aplenty as these courses brought them through any number of orcs that refused to stand in the open. "You do know you're not going to get a higher kill tally than the Bits, Balin, no matter how many orcs you run over?"

"Not going to stop me from trying." Balin shrugged as he budged the chariot slightly to the left and reduced the legs of several orcs into stumps with those spinning blades distended from the wheels, "Hold on."

"This is nothing." Dwalin blanched, his face slightly pale, "I know how he used to ride these in his heyday. That's horror for you."

"You're kidding me." Fili gulped, his face more than a little green.

Out the corner of her eyes the miqo'te noticed a pack of warg riders heading their way, only to veer away in wild panic when their pack leader suddenly vanished under a barrage laid down by a pair of passing Bits.

No doubt Azog's tearing out his hair in frustration by now, or he would if he had any.

With most if not all the gigas dead by now, and the orcs too busy trying to appear inconspicuous and non-threatening to the scattered smatterings of Allagan Bits, the opposition between them and the path leading up to Raven Hill was entirely lackluster. It thus did not take long before they arrived at the slope, where Balin effected a full one hundred and eighty degree turn of the chariot before he brought them to a stop.

"All of you get moving!" Balin provided them a meaningful glimpse, "I'll hold here and make sure there won't be any orcs coming at you from here."

"No brother." Dwalin shook his head, "We all stay together."

H'anigi had gotten off by then and stretched her limbs, glad to have her feet back on solid ground even as the brothers' argument hammered into her ears.

"Someone needs to stay. Might as well be me, who won't make it up so steep a path at any speed you might consider great." the elder retaliated, gently as is his manner, "Now go, make haste."

"You heard him!" Thorin exclaimed as he dismounted and left his ram by the chariot, "Azog might retreat at any moment. We must have his head before that happens."

Only with great reluctance did Dwalin relented, and nodded as he hefted the heavy mace he had selected from Erebor's long abandoned armories. Thorin responded in kind and started on the ascent, leading them on, "Onwards!"

That being done it did not take long before they encountered resistance... if a scattered one that was not at all the cause of any effort on the Bits' part, some of which are according to Guidance Node now going to town on the orcs rampaging in Dale much to the mixed gratitude and bewilderment of its defenders. One of the machines caught a comment along the way uttered by Gandalf to the effect of: "We may yet survive this."

"Hah!" Thorin exclaimed as he brought his sword cleanly through the heart of the first orc they encountered, and left it bonelessly in their wake, along with every other orc that rushed at them as their ascent progressed.

But every step of the way they only came at them alone or in pairs.

For the place of an HQ it was poorly defended.

Not that her companions, or herself for that matter, minded it at all as they cut their way through to the top where what appeared to be the final wave came at them. H'anigi had barely any time at all to look upon the ruins, and the frozen lake it sat on the cusp of as she raised a leg and kicked hard at an orc that came at her from the side so it flew into a wall, struck the knob of her axe into its face, knocking it senseless, then planted the blade of it into the side of its chest, crushing the heart along with several ribs.

With its limp collapse, blood turning to ice as it gushed forth from the expansive wound, silence finally fell as she and the others took a look around this desolate place... and what H'anigi had earlier assumed to be a butte but was actually a broken tower, part of an extensive castle-like complex.

"It looks empty." Fili felt the need to note about the now largely unattended signal flags, "I think Azog has fled."

Thorin frowned, "I don't think so. Fili, take your brother and scout out the towers. Keep low and out of sight. If you see something, report back. Do not engage. Do you understand?"

"We have company." Dwalin announced, and they whipped about to see a large number of barely armored creatures hurriedly approached with haggard weapons drawn, frothing at the teeth, "Goblin mercenaries!"

"No more than a hundred." Thorin snorted and waved at his nephews, "We'll take care of them. Go!"

 _No more than a hundred he says..._ H'anigi resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she took up position with Thorin and Dwalin while Fili and Kili left for the structure proper. Three against a hundred, her Captain would have balked at such odds. Going by those she killed back in the Misty Mountains though, goblins are far from the most formidable of enemies.

Still, she took to the task grimly and sidestepped as the first arriving goblin leaped at her, then buried the poll into its chest in a resolute swing that flung it back with a broken chest. She then flipped the axe and repeated the action against the second to reach her, upending it with a hit that left its forehead to a pulped mess.

Excitement still running hot from their initial charge, H'anigi slowly adopted a devilish smirk as a ripe nothingness enveloped her at the death spread around her, and almost ran at the third with such fire ablaze in her gaze that the goblin did a reverse and tried to turn away, colliding with several of its comrades in the process. She brought her axe about in a broad arc that saw its head lopped off, then followed it up with another that severed her fourth victim's left arm and sent it flying. Moving onto her fifth she kicked it over and very promptly hewed the axe deep into its skull before she went on to the sixth whose short spear she tore away then used to run it through.

Like that the miqo'te – and the dwarves who for now did not register in her mind – simply continued to butcher her way through the goblin ranks and inflicted dire casualties to these creatures who thought they were the ones supposed to have the upper hand.

Seven more did she fell before the goblins decided they had had enough and turned tail with high-pitched shrieks. One of them was too slow in doing so and promptly added to her tally as she buried her axe into its lower back and left it to flail on the frozen ground for a pregnant moment before she stomped hard on its neck and twisted the heel.

At the satisfying crunch of a dislocating spine, and the rest soon gone, H'anigi was left to sigh in mild ecstasy at her handiwork and slowly awoke to full coherency as the silence stretched. After that she looked onto her stained clothes, the fully blood-soaked axe, and the sea of corpses that lay across the area they fought in, her dwarven companions having brought down a solid number of goblins as well.

"Are you alright?" Dwalin asked from a small distance behind.

"Little tired, but whew... what a rush." H'anigi panted softly even as she felt a twinge of regret. To put this very bloodlust to rest was why she became a miner... but such things it appeared could not be thrown off that easily. Was her stint into mining a waste of time? Would her children know by instinct or see in her eyes that she's a killer?

Thorin sighed and looked to the castle, "Indeed. Take a seat, we'll hold here until my nephews return."

H'anigi would have felt inclined to do so, was it not the bad feeling she got when an eerie series of drumbeats started to echo from inside the structure along with the light of many torches. Somehow she knew what was about to happen, but was powerless to stop it as the pale white orc walked into view with a figure in its grasp they all immediately recognized. Fili, beaten and bloodied, gasped for air as he was held up by his throat in plain view of them.

"Fili." Thorin gasped as he ran to the fore, only stopped by the lake and numerous floors that separated them.

Of all the times they had to lack a bow and even a single arrow.

Like before H'anigi understood not a word Azog said other than the word 'Oakenshield', but the meaning was all too clear as the pale orc proceeded to skewer the poor dwarf on his arm-mounted sword, an execution H'anigi could do nothing about except watch run its course to the gruesome end where the pale orc made a further proclamation and with a wicked sneer dropped Fili's limp corpse to the ground far below, where the tragedy was made complete by Kili's presence, who got to behold every horrible detail of his brother's harsh landing.

Pain heaved from within her chest at the loss, but not nearly as much as that of her compatriots who trembled with horror and agony, the former of which was quickly supplanted by visceral roiling hatred in Thorin's case as he stared from his fallen nephew... and up to his enemy.

Whether he intended to do more than seethe and glare though was left in the air as something odd suddenly stirred it from far out. H'anigi was certain she was the first to pick up on a rising volume of shrill sounds come from the north and slowly turned, with a tilt of her head, as whatever produced that noise approached at a speed much greater than any warg rider can muster. She wondered what new monstrosity might come until her sharp ears twitched at what sounded like the flaps of leathery wings.

Bats?

"Get down!" H'anigi, for fear of sounding insensitive in this time of mourning, dropped immediately before the newcomers crested the hill and passed over their heads, a swarm of large bat-like monsters that in huge numbers made for the 'battle' below. "Guidance Node," she tersely growled, "airborne enemies coming in from the north, take them down!"

 _Judgment Of Allag Comes For Them..._ Guidance Node replied.

It took an uncomfortable length of time before the swarm finally and fully passed, allowing her to get back on her feet, only to see lots more goblins and orcs rush in from the same direction as the prior pack.

"Oh, give me a break."

"H'anigi." Thorin hissed from the side as he took her arm, his visage one of panic, "Kili just rushed off to face Azog! Go and find him, stop him! We'll hold here."

"Shouldn't you?" she asked uncertainly.

"You're faster than either of us." Dwalin reasoned, eyes on a huge orc whose flesh had many pieces of metal driven into it, "Go, now!"

H'anigi hesitated only for a split second before she with a quick turn darted to the edge, dropped onto the ice below, and made for the castle with as great a speed as she could manage across the slippery surface while the fight started up behind her. A battle she saw nothing of till she got off the ice at the far end and glanced briefly over her shoulder.

What she saw was a numerous force that Thorin and Dwalin for all their strength and skill could not possibly hold for long against, much less defeat. With howls of anger did the first wave close in... before they suddenly died under a hail of arrows.

"That is..." the miqo'te whispered in recognition as a small number of elves strode into view, their powerful bows and elegant blades drawn, lead on by Legolas whose furious gaze was drawn to the orc Dwalin spotted. Thorin did not like the type of intervention in the least, but found no reason to complain as the orcs continued their assault. For now they would fight alongside one another, grudges be damned.

Relieved to know the fight has gotten more even on their side, H'anigi made her own way into the castle, determined to find the remaining nephew before he gets himself killed on his fool's errand.

* * *

 **Author notes:** Big chapter, and as big a headache. Had in mind a far more elaborate battle, but it turned out so frustrating that I ended up simplifying it. Also, just to note:

1\. The rules H'anigi described could very well be alternatively explained as the result of simple pragmatic thinking. Preserving the crew coupled would allow the Captain to build up a veteran force, and giving the impression he cares about his crew means they are less likely to betray him – though it can up and bite him in the ass too as he has to allow those who wants to leave to leave or suffer damage to his reputation. H'anigi, who was in her youth recruited and rescued from poverty, could be cranked up to have grown to idolize her superior somewhat, and in part due to exactly this never quite got to the point where she'd pick up on the details behind those iron-clad rules.

2\. Frankly, I found Thorin's transition period from greedy bastard to repentant heroic figure a little too abrupt, jarring, and difficult to draw a bead on. So I ended up not giving him a viewpoint segment and simply jumped forward.

Oh well, two or three chapters till the time skip.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Parting of Woe**

* * *

When Legolas first laid his eyes upon the machine H'anigi brought before them, he did not think very highly of it, not even with its purported credential as one of the banishers of Smaug. On a whole it was too gaudy and graceless in design to provide by words alone a convincing argument. An opinion he revised when the battlefield entire heaved into utter chaos, a multitude of orcs slaughtered, and trolls being felled wholesale.

Still, while the previously so overwhelming orc army was in the process of falling apart at the seams, it would be to little gain if Azog escaped. So the very instant he recognized the golden opportunity practically laid out to him, Legolas mustered ten of his finest warriors and set out to scale Ravenhill. An endeavor in which he did his best to avoid notice by either army, and met thus with only one being along the way – an elderly dwarf manning a chariot armed with a repeater crossbow who saw no reason to impede their advance – till they arrived at the top where his company found their first set of targets, and felled a whole wave of crudely armored orcs and goblins who at the time were set loose upon a solitary pair of dwarves, one of whom required no introduction.

Legolas had no fondness of dwarves, but to let die perfectly capable meat shields like mutts strode against every measure of sane judgment.

So decisive a barrage it was that a brief pause was brought to the engagement, one that his warriors helped maintain as they nocked their bows again and again. While Thorin seemed to have mellowed out somewhat from his pitiful performance atop of Erebor's wall he still ground his teeth, though Legolas suspected it came more from recognition than an unwillingness to offer thanks, "You."

"Indeed." Legolas dryly quipped, and nailed an oncoming ogre through its throat, causing the brute to collapse heavily atop a pair of goblins, "Any objection?"

"Plenty." Thorin fumed, "Yet, I am in no position to be picky."

"An alliance of convenience, then." Legolas inclined his head gracefully and with a gesture had his small company quickly form up with the dwarves.

"Oh joy." the other dwarf huffed sarcastically.

Legolas found no reason to give a remark to that. Rather he took position and looked out across the small sea of filth and focused on Bolg who stood far to the rear and watched the battlefield change with passive contempt, half-shrouded in the mist that threatened to cover Ravenhill entire.

Briefly did he entertain the notion of putting an arrow through its miserable throat, but decided against it in full acknowledgment of the creature's skill. It would have likely ended up a wasted shot. Instead he watched till Bolg slipped from view, and showed no inclination to leave the cloying mist.

"An ambush may very well happen. Make sure not to be taken unawares."

"Oi, who do you think you're talking to here?"

"My comrades and a couple of dwarves." Legolas informed in a blunt manner as he let another arrow fly, causing a minor tumble as a goblin fell and made several others stumble on it, all of whom proceeded to die under an articulated hail. While that happened, several orcs made their ingress from a different point... only to be intercepted by the dwarves, giving time for the closest among his company to drop his bow in favor of his curved blade and joined the diminutive beings in the dealing of meticulous violence, cutting down a few of the orcs with such skill they could never attain in even their dreams.

While the three focused on those closer to them, Legolas and the rest focused on more distant targets, cutting them down in droves, extending the already corpse-cluttered grounds far and wide with the dead and the dying, creating a ramparts on which the orcs had to lope and jump or find themselves fatally slowed.

Legolas was at first confident about their chances as he continuously slew the orcs before a sticky suspicion snaked its way into his mind. A suspicion that did not grow and become whole until the ninth volley where he noticed finally and truly there was something seriously off about this situation. There was no deviation in the tactics employed by these orcs. Instead of all the things they could have attempted, the creatures did naught but charge blindly without a thought, as if they did not value their own lives or were too foolish to believe they were anything but invincible even as their bodies covered the field. Atop of that most of them wore almost no armor and carried weapons that seemed like to snap in a breeze. And their implied training appeared slight at best. More a bunch of fanatical thugs than warriors.

From these observations, a conclusion was quickly drawn.

This is no personal guard or a mercenary detail. It's the vanguard of an approaching army. Legolas swore, cursing himself, for this should have occurred to him earlier when the Gundabad Bats attacked. "Thorin!" Legolas called thus with weight and a sense of urgency as he strung yet another arrow, noting absently how his quiver grew ever lighter, "Do you know where Azog can be found?"

"Aye, though it helps us none, for the complex behind us is a trap meant to corner the whole lot of us." Thorin tersely replied, and paused for a moment as he finished off the last remaining living component of the closer wave, removing its screaming head with a quickly dealt cut. "I have already lost my heir to Azog's scheme. No more. Soon as H'anigi returns with Kili, we'll depart."

Legolas frowned, wondering if Thorin realized the trap was just one half of a greater and all the more fatal truth, one they might as well refer to as the hammer and anvil. He elected to believe the Dwarf King did know.

"If we go in there, we'll be cornered." Thorin continued in all seriousness, "Azog's favored tactic is to wear down his opposition, place them in position of complete disadvantage. All so he can personally dispatch them without undue risk to himself. Knowing that, I should have seen this coming."

Legolas wasn't particularly happy about having come here for nothing, but chose to defer to Thorin's greater knowledge of the beast in question. It more or less placed a confirmation on his own theory, "An unwelcome revelation."

Even more unwelcome was the largest wave yet as many goblins loped and climbed into view, frothing at their gnashing teeth, howling every obscenity known under the stars, and swinging both clubs and fists like crazed animals, frequently knocking down one another as they stormed over stone, down stairs, and through ruined doorways across a broad front. So great in number that sheer quantity forced some to circle around and flank.

Every arrow they could spend in time washed away portions of the first row until finally Legolas called to them, "Swords!" and drew Orcrist just in time to skewer one of the miserable creatures upon it, pulled the blade out and severed the head from the shoulders of another. His warriors did likewise, they abandoned their bows and unsheathed their curved blades. In an instant all remaining distance was eaten up and a furious melee broke out.

No more words needed to be said or declared as the elves and dwarves together slaughtered many goblins each before the creatures truly flooded the area between and around them, and incurred the first elven losses in this engagement if only through sheer numerical superiority. Legolas counted three of his warriors who one after another were swamped and vanished beneath the creatures' trampling feet. Losses that encouraged those who remained to fight with greater fury, turning this little area truly into a meat grinder. Both dwarves were quickly covered in black blood amid a storm of arterial blood, cold as ice yet angry beyond belief, absolutely merciless in how they delivered death onto the creatures that repeatedly tried to take them down. If Legolas bothered to look at himself, he would realize that he too was soaked in the vile blood of his enemies, though it rolled off his clothes like water on oilskin.

Still, for all his skill he had a very close brush with death when the largest goblin of the lot managed to tackle him against an opposing wall and very nearly ran him through. Legolas would have bought it there, was it not for the brown-bearded dwarf's intervention, who severed the goblin's spine with a strong-armed chop and sent the creature howling to the knees it could no longer feel. A quick swing thereafter saw it spared from further misery.

Legolas in astonishment provided a hoarse "M-my thanks."

"Pray, don't mention it." the stout being growled with what he presumed was his primary facial expression, and blithely moved on to his next victim. Legolas once he recovered did the very same, once again carving a path of bloodshed atop of the growing piles of their foes, and while at it gleamed growing fear in the dark eyes of goblins and orcs alike.

It delivered hope onto him that they would soon see the enemy vanguard utterly destroyed. What would follow in its wake, however, require far greater force than those present could muster. So on that note, he silently prayed for the safe return of the woman who controlled the machines below.

 _OoOoO_

When Kili saw his own kin, his brother, plummet and crash in the same heartbeat with a cacophony of shifting stone and broken bones, a bloody hole torn through his chest, he could not at all encapsulate the vast emptiness that veritably swallowed him. His brain did not believe, and refused to take in what he saw. Meanwhile his own heart bled, and despair tore from it like a wounded animal screeching in agony.

A dismay that turned to cold desire for vengeance while the world blackened, and shrank till it contained none else but himself and his dead twin... along with the cruel laughter of Fili's murderer.

Kili focused on that laughter, on the orc guilty of this atrocity, and came to a decision that was more a product of boiling blood than rational thought.

Heedless of the danger he freed his thirsting sword from its scabbard and reentered the tower with one intent alone. Kili ignored the cry from his uncle and ran on through the degraded structure at full tilt. He was certain a few orcs came to stand in his way, all of whom he forgot the moment he put them down.

Given his progress, an encounter with Azog was all but inevitable.

And that certainly came to pass as he surfaced into a space without a whole lot of walls but many stairs, and saw the pale orc who likely expected this leap right at him, swinging with him a huge black mace. Kili had just enough a presence of mind to duck under it and effected a shallow cut on Azog's side as he advanced. The orc croaked in pain, dimly surprised, but showed no intent to relent as he swung around, the blade arm first to come, followed by the blunter weapon.

Kili jumped from the first, and stumbled from the second as it almost split the floor on which they stood.

Momentarily unable to effect a suitable stance, he turned and leaped down the adjacent stair and prompted the comparably gargantuan Azog to follow. Kili swung his sword to divert a blow from the mace, and attempted to close in just enough to through the gut of his foe, only to be forced on the retreat as Azog thrust his sword arm forward.

This repeated until they hit the lowest floor of this section, where he finally got more room to maneuver. Kili attempted to replicate the one blow he had managed to land, but the orc had learned from that and made no excessive swings that would have left it open. Instead what the pale ord did was try and coax him into a corner. Attempts he did his best to avoid, knowing it would be equal to a death sentence.

Still, this did not deter him in the least. If anything Kili was made all the more eager and determined to slay this most despicable of orcs. So it was that Kili went on to almost frantically blow a subsequent thrust of Azog's blade arm aside, then closed in, blade redirected to effect a full on disembowelment.

But in so doing he made a huge move that left himself wide open to a counterattack. Azog huffed a mocking laugh and thrust its knee into his chest, knocking all the air out of him. It happened so fast that Kili did not at at all understand why he suddenly flew from the grinning orc, and watched the mace descend.

A clamor of metal against metal stirred him from his momentary trance. Kili sat up from where he slouched against the wall and found H'anigi's lithe figure towering over him, her tail far lowered to indicate her utter focus as she blocked and held back Azog's mace with the poll of her axe, then with a roar of effort hurled him back, flipped her weapon around, and made a startlingly swift chop forward, causing the pale orc to withdraw a few steps.

"Ah, what a surprise to finally meet the one who tried to ambush me on the mountain slope, who my Master so desire to... meet, and the very one of whom I suspect... are responsible for my losses on this day." Azog rumbled in the black speech, appraising the female rather than renew its assault. It narrowed the remarkably clear blue eyes dangerously, "Are you?"

"Yeah," H'anigi replied slowly, sounding explicitly annoyed, "I haven't understood a single word you've said, big guy. Speak plainly or I'll knock your nonsensical head off."

Was he not in such pain, Kili would have felt compelled to laugh. All he could for now, unfortunately, was groan from his effort of pushing himself up the wall, struggling to get back on his feet. Kili was to his shame rather astounded by Azog's astuteness, however, able to connect the dots even if it had almost nothing to go on. At most it could theorize that both of the two complete unknowns to have appeared as of late must somehow be connected.

"I will not speak one word of the tongue used by lesser races, she cat." Azog chuckled mirthlessly, a diabolical smirk growing on his face, "Son,"

Just the use of that single word was enough for Kili's blood to run cold. "H'anigi, look ou-" he started to cry out, only for his words to become a strangled gasp as pain blossomed from his abdomen upon the curt whine of an arrow in flight. "Ah!" Kili groaned in equal parts dismay and horror, shuddering while he looked down to find a large arrow lodged deep in the left side of his abdomen – already his clothes started to become moist from an outpour of hot blood.

This, was not exactly how he envisioned his quest would end.

 _OoOoO_

At first, H'anigi felt confused as the pale orc in front of her continued refusing to speak in a language she could understand. Kili had no such impediment and almost made her jump as he abruptly yelled out a warning that ended on a strangled note. Such an alarm went off in her head that she took the risk of turning from her opponent to check on the young dwarf, and found him nearly impaled by an arrow.

She was about to cry out his name, but forced herself instead to look for the one who did this to him, and found a towering orc in the nearest doorway she recognized all too well from when she went to find Kili in the first place, those crude metal pieces grafted into its flesh looking all the more gruesome up close.

 _How did I miss such a brute lumbering about?_ H'anigi almost shouted, unable to quite believe it. Not at all should that beast have been able to move about so quietly that even her sharp ears couldn't pick him up, yet fact was it managed such a feat and succeeded splendidly.

Azog laughed cruelly, rumbling in its blackened language in what resembled a congratulatory manner.

The other creature, Bolg, nodded and offered what sounded like a question – its cold eyes fixated on her.

Whatever Azog replied with, it could not be good, for Bolg discarded the powerful bow it carried and clashed its knuckles together in what could only be a declaration of intent. H'anigi got the feeling they intended to capture her rather than kill – neither of which she wanted any part of.

And in the blink of an eye, Bolg charged at her. H'anigi in response ducked like she would if a roegadyn attacked, held her axe up by its haft and poll in a practiced manner, and lunged past the creature just close enough to effect a cut just deep enough to allow blood to pour freely from it.

Bolg howled at the injury and span to face her again.

H'anigi did it even faster and aimed to chop the blade of her axe deep into its chest next, except Bolg – probably used to fighting opponents more agile than itself – was ready for it. Deftly it caught her axe by the upper part of its handle and with a twist of its grip wrenched the weapon from her grasp and tossed it away almost frivolously.

Before she recovered, Bolg caught her by the throat and left arm, span around, and threw her at a wall with as much force as could be mustered. Most people would have been knocked senseless by the impact resulting from such a throw, but Bolg had no idea it wouldn't work on physically fit miqo'te.

Instinctively, the very moment Bolg let go, H'anigi twisted herself around and met the wall first with her hands and knees, absorbed much of the force with which she had been thrown, then rebounded from the wall altogether. With the superior balance granted by her tail, H'anigi straightened herself up as she touched the ground, and from there tackled her opponent at a full rush.

Surprised by her abrupt recovery, Bolg was unable to stop from crashing into Azog, toppling the both of them.

H'anigi's first thought when she pulled away was to try and kill both while they were down, but found no trace of her axe – neither was Kili's sword in sight, and the orcs' choice of weapons all appeared too heavy for her to lift, let alone use. So instead she wheeled about and dashed to Kili who was still alive, though, she suspected, fatally wounded. _No... I don't know that yet._ _Maybe it's less serious than it looks_ _._

"Kili, stand up. We're getting out of here."

"Leave me." Kili coughed blood, "Save yourself."

"Not without you." H'anigi tersely replied as she crouched down, broke the arrow in half, and went on to pick him up using the crutch method. Kili looked disturbingly pale from his injury, but her insistence compelled him into action.

Together, working in tandem, they left the open space and ran as fast as they could, mustering a speed that was nevertheless insufficient as she soon heard the previously stunned orcs scrambling in pursuit of them, coming closer every second.

H'anigi tightened her hold on Kili and upped her pace, relying on what little she knew of the ruins' layout to expedite their escape till with a cry they emerged once again into open air... and stumbled down to the ice that covered much of the expanse ahead, heading for the site of battle, its defenders fewer in number than last time she looked. Eight of the elves were nowhere to be seen , and she suspected they lay among the many, many dead orcs carpeting the ground like an ugly rug.

A roar erupted from too close behind them, and encouraged H'anigi to finally shout, to cry out, "Help!"

One of those to respond, to her surprise, was Guidance Node, its dull voice somehow reassuring even if the support would not arrive for another two minutes – so entrenched it was with handling the Bats which against all odds have managed to knock out a full five of the Bits if only through sheer attrition, and beating those few they managed to grab against whatever hard surface was the closest. Thankfully though, it wasn't the only one responding to her cry.

 _OoOoO_

Only a few stragglers remained of what had been a most persistent force, even if it only managed to be that through ample willingness to sacrifice themselves. Thorin thus allowed himself a breather, watching as Dwalin and what few elves remained almost tirelessly dealt with the stragglers. Exhaustion was rife in every part of his own body, yet Thorin stayed on his feet, not allowing himself any real respite.

He was thus able to quickly respond when a distant H'anigi called for help, and turned in time to see her stumble across the ice with a badly wounded Kili in her arms who just barely managed to stay on his feet. And found in that same glimpse their pursuers as Azog and his son both homed in on the two.

Horrified and made furious by the implied extent of his remaining nephew's wound, the youngster's left side wholly stained with blood, Thorin launched himself onto the ice and raced for those at fault.

He was not alone in this undertaking, for Legolas too joined him. "Bolg is mine to deal with." he declared simply.

"And Azog is mine." Thorin followed suit, and they shared a quick nod of agreement. With his weapon drawn and a war cry tearing from his mouth, he dashed past the woman and nephew with only the one target in mind.

"Thorin Oakenshield!" Azog called out, smirking widely as it slowed to meet him.

"Azog!" Thorin shouted with every fiber of his being lit on fire, and made the area echo with the resulting clash as his sword and the beast's mace met with thunderous force. For a moment they wrestled like this for the advantage a victory on this range would bring, but Azog was the stronger in this instant, for he proceeded to fling Thorin away and toward the frozen waterfall.

With a grunt of breath, Thorin rolled away till he found purchase and stood once again, ducked a wide swing made by his enemy, and forced a shallow cut at the creature's middle. A move that has on this day, unknown to him, seen a surprisingly plentiful use against this beast and its disgusting son. Azog at least roared in recognition, more enraged than pained.

Furiously did they exchange hits, both of them careful not to broadcast too great a motion that would allow a swift counterattack and simply went at it, neither gaining any ground for what felt like a small eternity. Thorin dodged and he weaved from the heaviest blows and blunted aside the lighter swings, settling into a pattern until Azog suddenly did something unexpected. It dropped the mace and against all sense grabbed the blade of Thorin's sword.

Thorin's first instinct was to try and pull the sword free, leaving him wide open for when Azog brandished its blade arm and thrust it into his chest.

Deeply did it bite into his right lung, causing blood to quickly fill it. Thorin coughed and felt the taste of copper in his mouth. For a moment he was stunned, before he let go of the sword and withdrew from the orc a few paces. He prepared for further attack, but his body turned so heavy he could not help but stumble and fall to his knee.

"Uncle!" he heard his nephew scream, despondent.

A shout accompanied by the loss of hope as a massive regimented army crested the hills beyond the ruins, rows upon rigid rows of orcs in full armor, a forest of spears thrust above them all. A fresh army of thousands ready to join the battle.

"It is as I declared." Azog grinned widely, triumphant, as it prepared to deliver the killing blow, "Your bloodline ends on this da-"

Thorin could offer nothing now but a defiant glare, refusing to let himself appear defeated. He waited for the sword to land, but instead saw the orc slow and stare incredulously at something out of his sight.

What followed was glorious for lack of a better word as from the open sky a mighty flock of eagles swooped upon the newly arrived orcs, their talons brandished, and raked through the first battle formation, bowling over many hundreds of orcs like they were nothing. Even further a massacre was incurred as a great being launched himself from one of the eagles and turned into a massive bear that struck upon the orcs like a bomb, and with untold savagery tore through the orcs. Many weapons were brought against Beorn, and orcs climbed upon him like ants would a tortoise, all of which he shrugged off with ease and proceeded to lay further waste to the creatures who came to fight, only to find themselves slaughtered as beings greater than any orc smashed them aside like they were toys.

All the rest of their legion could do was surge onward and hope their still gargantuan numbers would grant them their victory.

In response to this decimation of troops, Azog's expression morphed into one of blind rage.

Thorin smirked mockingly though he coughed more blood by the moment, "Some army."

"Argh!" Azog roared at the top of its lungs, and swung its blade arm across a wide arc with every intention of separating Thorin's head from his neck, but a shadow of a certain someone all too precious jumped in front of him and took the blow.

 _OoOoO_

For all the wonder of what Beorn and the eagles did to the Azog's vaunted reinforcements, Kili's attention was fixed nowhere else but his uncle who sat on a knee, unable to do much else now other than defiantly await execution. All the while H'anigi busied herself shouting for Dwalin in-between her calls for the Bits to shoot upon neither bear nor eagles and instead support them.

She earnestly meant to try and save him.

Kili really appreciated the effort, but he knew better than anyone that he was not long for this world. Blood loss aside, the arrow was deep enough in him to perforate the liver. With damage such as that, death was simply a matter of time.

So while her attention – and Azog's for that matter – was elsewhere, Kili freed his right arm from where it was draped onto her shoulders with a grunt and struck its elbow hard into the woman's gut and saw her crumple onto the ice, clutching her middle. "K-Kili?" she stuttered through clenched teeth, "W-what are you doing?"

Kili offered no words, only haste. He turned and through great agony made a beeline as Azog in its ire turned to take its frustration out on his uncle. Every measure of strength was mustered as he ate up the distance, picked up his uncle's sword along the way, and just as the beast swung its blade-mounted arm interposed himself between them. Kili took the crude sword to his middle, agonized at how deeply it cut, and in a mighty swing brought by the momentum of his arrival into position cleaved the upper part of the creature's uninjured arm down to the bone and broke it.

At once, Azog stumbled away while it issued a genuine scream at how the limb dangled by strips of flesh.

"Kili!" he heard his uncle yell as he, finally spent, collapsed onto the ice, feeling oddly at peace. It wasn't the most ideal of outcomes, but it was vastly better than what would have happened if the miqo'te had left him as he so begged her to. Kili felt his uncle's trembling arms pull him into his embrace so their eyes could meet, and saw how Thorin's teared up, "Kili, why, why did you do that?!"

"My blood told me to." Kili coughed a whisper like that was all that needed to be said, and in a final effort offered the bloodied weapon that has seen the death of so many orcs on this day, "Now take up your sword, my King, avenge all the fallen, and finish this."

"... I will, my kin." Thorin said softly, lowering him gently to the ground before he took the sword firmly, unfathomable in his sorrow yet resolute, brimming with righteous indignation. Before this Kili could offer no more than a satisfied smile before he closed his eyes for the last time, and for the briefest of moments felt a welcoming hand upon his shoulder.

 _OoOoO_

No sooner did Thorin place his last nephew on the cold ground before Azog fought through the agony it suffered and bull-rushed him in a move that reeked of desperation, determined to kill him before he could put the sword Kili returned to him to use.

But Azog failed to realize it was far too late for that now as he decisively leaped to his feet in a final show of strength, and slammed into his arch-enemy with such surprising momentum for one who came at it from a cold start that it was Azog who fell away.

Thorin then thrust the sword through its chest, and as they landed pushed it all the way into the ice, fixing the wretched creature in place. "You have failed, Azog." he declared, gurgling on his own blood that threatened to further drown him with every moment, "Even if I too will soon join my kin, Dáin still lives. The line of Durin will live on, and you can do no more to end it than an insect can stop the sun from rising. Durin will walk on Middle-Earth again, and there's nothing your wretched kind can do to stop his ascent."

Azog attempted to croak its retaliation, the black speech drowning with the same surity of its tongue as blood poured into its mouth from the steep wound.

While it did so, Thorin with a shaky mien pushed himself up and locked his relentless gaze with that of Azog, standing tall to fully hammer in its defeat till it emitted a final cough, and its cold eyes grew dim.

Azog the Defiler was finally dead.

And Thorin who at great cost stood victorious took a few steps from the corpse of his enemy, and looked outward as both of his remaining comrades upon this place rushed to meet him. He adopted a sad smile, and finally let himself fall.

 _OoOoO_

"Hurry, lass!" Dwalin hollered desperately as he practically threw himself to Thorin's side, "Prop him up!"

H'anigi complied as she took to a knee and with arms folded round his neck and belly pulled the wounded Dwarf King into a more seated position, using a proffered knee to help support him, "His wound's terrible..." she observed, not confident about Thorin's chances of survival, "We're looking at a punctured lung here."

"At the very least we must stop him from leaking any more blood." Dwalin cursed as he ripped Thorin's clothes and chain-mail open before he went and ripped his own jacket asunder for the explicit purpose of use as makeshift bandages, "Now keep him there."

"I am." she nodded, "Can we call Óin over?!"

"Already asked the elves to go and look for him." he barked angrily, "As for when he comes... we can only pray they find him soon."

H'anigi nodded wistfully, holding Thorin with utmost caution while Dwalin applied and fastened the makeshift bandages into place. Hopefully it would be enough to stop the exterior bleeding, but the interior parts of the wound was the true core of the problem they faced. Thorin looked so very pale as blood drained from his system and filled up where it's not supposed to go. One thing they could do was to try and cauterize the wound, but for that they had not the necessary tools – none of which would be great in supply atop of a frozen hill.

An ample distraction from her considerations promptly came along as the air was filled with the clink of crystals, announcing that the Allagan Bits have finally arrived on the scene, each of them stained with blood, and flitted about the scene with such an air of apparent boredom that they only managed to incense her.

"You're late!" H'anigi yelled at them, an obscenity quick to leave her.

None of the blasted things even reacted in any way that resembled contrition.

H'anigi cursed softly and took up the tomestone, "Make yourself useful and help that bear and those birds take down what remains of the orcs. Go!"

 _Acknowledged._ Guidance Node replied promptly, and the machines sped off to get that done. Every eagle in sight reacted momentarily to the arriving Bits that came to fly alongside them with what appeared to be a strange form of bemusement before they elected to ignore them as they demonstrated as to which side they flew on, cutting into the increasingly scattered army below with impunity.

"H'anigi, Dwalin. I am glad you came..." she started when Thorin suddenly spoke, his voice so hoarse and weak, "I wish to part from you in friendship."

"Don't speak like that, old friend." Dwalin begged, "Save your breath and hold still. You're going to live, I swear it."

"Everything I did, everything I said." Thorin persisted, "All the hardship I inflicted on all of you with my horrible, selfish, greed. I am so sorry..."

"You need not apologize." H'anigi stressed, her voice trembling, "All is forgiven. I am sure everyone feel the same. Fili and Kili too."

Thorin smiled and exhaled a raspy sigh, "Fili, Kili... my nephews, they were better people than I ever was. Same with all the rest of you."

She grimaced, snapping a joke without meaning to, "Me too? Surely you jest."

"I am not." he slowly shook his head, "You turned from all the riches you could have made, chose a hard profession to earn your living, with a clear desire to raise a family. What have I compared to that? I who thought nothing of starting a family of my own, turned my back on my previous lot and succumbed to the temptations of gold?"

 _You never killed innocents..._ H'anigi wanted to point out, but it was poor in taste to argue in this situation. Instead she elected to cast her gaze down and be silent.

"Dwalin, my friend and confidant. This is my final will."

"Say it is not so." Dwalin shook his head pleadingly, on the edge of despair.

"Grant onto Bard's people the compensation that is their due. Return to the Elven King's hands what he came to retrieve. And onto Dáin, you can tell him the crown's now his to claim."

"A-aye..."

"As for you, H'anigi. Take the Arkenstone and find your way home." Thorin croaked, his voice softer than ever. "May your children turn out healthy and strong." he shuddered once and breathed, "If people valued home more than gold, this world would be a merry place..."

With those words said, Thorin Oakenshield passed peacefully on.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Dwalin was distraught, this moment one he could not have prepared for even if he had a hundred years to do it, and wept openly as he took his friend from her arms, into his embrace and cried out in his fathomless sorrow, "Thorin, no..."

After a moment of taking it in, stunned, H'anigi with a shiver and a hitch also joined in. While she did not regard him highly for much of the time she was with them on their journey, it was all water under the bridge now.

 _OoOoO_

Legolas stared blankly across the corpse-strewn hills beyond Ravenhill from a broken pillar as he played every instant of the duel in which he battled Azog's insidious spawn over and over again, recalling how they matched each other perfectly in skill, and how the duel abruptly ended.

An hour had gone by since the battle ended, and every army present currently gathered every one of their injured and dead. A few of his kin currently collected those of his who fell here on Ravenhill. Losses he mourned, for he knew many of them from centuries of service. Yet still, he looked across the hills rather than follow as if taken by some spell.

"My son," was what finally broke said spell, and Legolas turned to his father, flanked by Tauriel, who regarded him evenly, "come down. We have much to do before our return to Mirkwood."

"I won't be returning." Legolas sighed as he climbed down to face them, "Azog's spawn yet lives. Escaped on a waiting warg upon the father's demise. I will not go home until it is dead."

"Where will you go?" Tauriel inquired sadly.

Legolas looked upon the woman he's so fond of, though he made sure not to be overt about it, "... I do not know."

"Then have at least enough sense not to go alone." Thranduil surprisingly said rather than try to persuade him to change his decision, "Go north, find the Dúnedain. There is a ranger among them you should meet. His father Arathorn is a good man, his son might grow to be great."

Legolas inclined his head, "What is his name?"

"He is known in the wild as Strider." his father told him plainly, "His true name, you must discover for yourself."

"I understand."

Thranduil was not quite done, "Legolas. Your mother loved you. More than anyone else. More than life."

Such an outright admission, Legolas did not expect at all. Far as relatives go the relationship between him and his father tended to be rather cold, or lukewarm at the best of times. This was nothing less than a confirmation that his father did deeply care about his well-being, and a well-concealed reminder that no matter what happens out there on his travels to come, his home would always be there waiting for him with open arms. It filled Legolas with warmth, with reassurance, and he nodded to his father with a smile. A gesture his father, however slight in manner, returned.

 _OoOoO_

For much of the evening that followed in the battle's wake, Bilbo Baggins wandered about as if he was among the living dead. Of all his experience over the course of their adventure, this day would live on as the lowest in his regard. To begin with he loathed battles entirely, but it was truly the demise of three good friends that marked it as truly a bleak time of his life.

Many funerals, burials, and ceremonies would take place in the coming days, including one in two days' time when Dáin would reward the Eagle King for the support provided to decisively end the battle that cost them all so much.

Though he did like the majestic eagles, Bilbo cared about none of it, for now all his attention was devoted to the three who lay on aged beds, in wait for their final resting place to be prepared. Each of them so peaceful in their rest that one could not be faulted in the belief that they simply slept and would awaken at any moment. He stood among the company who surrounded the three, his expression solid as if made from cold stone. Only a fool would discern that for indifference, though, as inside of him there raged a storm of emotions that built up continuously underneath his seemingly stoic veneer. Several of the dwarves who mourned more openly told him it was fine to release what he kept pent up, but he couldn't do it.

All of it was kept behind locks by a heart so heavy that it might as well be made from lead, yet was so deeply hollow that to gleam upon it was to be swallowed in despair.

For the whole while he was present, the pain simply refused to spill out, and when he could no longer stand it left the room behind – if only for a time, he decided. A course of action that somehow led him to soon wind up alone with H'anigi in some lonely corner away from the mourning crowds. And in that moment as he looked upon her, who was covered in little more than scrapes and bruises, his heart finally burst apart and his emotions so far kept at bay flooded from it in roiling waves.

Bilbo knew how those friends he cherished died, and the circumstances beyond. What came out now was a question: How could those losses have been avoided?

"Why didn't you save them?" Bilbo whispered bitterly, "You who are so strong. You with all the solutions and answers."

H'anigi returned only an unequivocally sad look, and was otherwise unmoving.

"You had your weapon, your skill, and even those crazy machines that made such short work of the orcs." he almost yelled at her, "How could you not have saved everyone?!"

"So much happened, Bilbo." the miqo'te breathed so faintly he almost missed her words, "... I didn't know I could call on those things without holding the tomestone before it was far too late. Fili was dead by then, and Kili so horribly wounded."

Bilbo was incensed now, speaking loudly enough to make a few heads turn, "You could have done it sooner! Far sooner!"

"You're right. I could have..."

"Bastard." he found himself blurt out in a fit of unreasonable anger, completely losing control of it, remembering what hostility she had shown to their leader, and rushed all too swiftly to a conclusion, "You aimed to have Thorin dead from the start!"

This time, in disbelief, H'anigi reacted spontaneously, and Bilbo's head was whipped to the side as she slapped him with a shaking hand, her eyes moist with tears.

Bilbo understood then he had gone too far, yet all he managed in his current state was run. Away from everything. For how long he ran through Erebor's labyrinthe halls he had no idea, but when he stopped... he wrapped himself up in a convenient if ragged red blanket and both cried and wailed and bled out his heart till his eyes were red and his voice hoarse, and fatigue finally took its toll and mercifully put him to sleep.

 _OoOoO_

H'anigi in her shock couldn't believe what just happened.

Wholly did she agree that she _could_ have done more, and had thus found no reason to contradict nor argue with Bilbo's points, and intended to let him lambaste her till he ran out of steam. But when he leveled out such a brazen accusation, her body acted upon it in utter outrage and slapped him before she could reign herself in... by which time it was too late, as Bilbo after a stunned moment up and fled from her.

She wanted for an instant to catch up to him and apologize, but stopped as other parts of her prevailed. Instead she quietly follow the deeply distraught hobbit from a safe distance to where he finally chose to stop to weep by himself. While full of remorse, H'anigi chose not to walk in on him and sat herself in the hallway beyond and listened melancholiously to how he grieved till it finally gave away to deep yet uneasy snores.

With deliberate caution H'anigi rose and approached the hobbit who slept awkwardly in a corner, protected by little more than a ragged blanket he just so happened to find here.

"Bilbo, you'll get a cold if you sleep like that..." H'anigi observed, sighing under her breath as she crouched down in front of him and gently adjusted the blanket so to cover him better. "It's strange really." she whispered once done, seating herself cross-legged in front of him, "I had a whole speech about ready go, yet now I can't utter even one word of it. So I'll just get to the heart of it."

"No doubt you hate me now for my inability to save Thorin and the others, and I believe you have every right to. I should have done better, and now... you'll probably feel better off with me gone."

"But before that, we still have one issue that needs solving. I promised to help rid you of that cursed Ring, Bilbo, but considering what I know now... it's not possible for us to see such a task to its completion and live. And this day was all too demonstrative of how powerless I truly am."

"So... I'll take care of it... in the only way that comes to mind."

Without ado, yet carefully, she extended an arm and pulled the Ring from the pocket Bilbo kept it in – noting in the same motion how heavily it came to weigh down against her palm as she withdrew it. "I'm a sinner, Bilbo. So it's only right that I take your burden upon myself rather than leave it in the hands of an innocent. I know the compulsion it has cast on you will turn out to be an issue... but it's my hope it'll eventually pass."

Strangely though, she felt not its magic upon her person. It continued to devour aether, certainly, but did nothing else so far as she could discern. Did it need a little time to adjust first, or did it pin its hopes on being retrieved?

With a shrug she pocketed it and got back on her feet.

"Once it passes..." H'anigi paused and scratched her head, "Come to think of it, I don't know enough of your home to know what kind of a life you used to have before this journey, but it certainly must have been peaceful to have produced so gentle and well-meaning a fellow. In any case, I pray your life will be, from here, a pleasant and wholesome one."

For a long moment he gazed upon the hobbit she was glad to have befriended, knowing this would likely be the very last time she'll ever see him. H'anigi drank in every memory of their experience together, before she with a small whimper slowly turned.

"Farewell, Bilbo."

 _OoOoO_

With the hardest part behind her, it was about time to find the Arkenstone and split.

H'anigi knew she would regret this decision for a long time to come, and fought a rough internal battle as she looked for Bard, him still being in possession of the Arkenstone to her knowledge. A large part of her desired to stay for a little longer to smooth things over with Bilbo, to mourn and celebrate with the others... only to realize that she would still have to steal the Ring away at the end of it while he slept anyway. It was better to do it now that their relationship was more or less at rock bottom than have it all end on a note of perceived betrayal.

Perhaps she could smooth things over and then try and convince him into giving her the Ring, but every part of her recognized the folly of it. Even if he was easily convinced of it because of his fear and loathing of it, the Ring's compulsion would likely make him swiftly fight tooth and nail to retrieve it.

And that... she wanted to avoid.

 _Please, let this work out..._ H'anigi pleaded silently.

"Ah! There you are!"

Surprised to be so suddenly addressed, H'anigi's train of thought derailed and made a most messy scene of whatever it crashed into after. She looked for the voice's owner and recognized an elderly dwarf jogging toward her, "What's biting your heels, Balin?"

"Only a need to find and bring you with post-haste." the kindly dwarf brought himself to a crunching one-footed halt, and gestured for her as he turned about, "Come."

Intensely curious yet very conscious of what she needs to be doing right now, she followed him without protest. "Where are we going?"

"Throne Chamber." Balin replied calmly, leading the way, "Dwalin just read out Thorin's final will before the gathered leadership."

"Did they take it well?"

"I suppose Bard and Thranduil were well-pleased."

"Very."

"What did that prissy elf come for anyway?"

"The White Gems of Lasgalen." he said with a sagely nod, "Personally speaking it was due. It was a long time ago stolen from the elves, and belonged to the Elven King's late wife."

"Ah, a slight I guess factored into the elves' choice to turn their backs on this place back in the day – beside the dragon problem, of course."

Balin sighed unhappily, "I care not to speculate."

For a while they walked the desolate halls, and found along the way a slow increase in the number of elves and men present among the dwarves. None of them familiar, and who found her equally unfamiliar as many eyes followed her steps. Nowhere did she see any of the others.

"Are the rest still...?"

"Most of them, aye." the elderly dwarf inclined his head, "Bombur's gone to make some food so the others won't accidentally starve themselves."

"I'm sorry."

He quirked a brow, "For what, lass?"

"I should have been able to save them..."

"Many more than you have said that in their rumination of what should have or could have been done. People do what is within their means, and mistakes come from even the finest of warriors. People do what they can, far as they may." Balin said sadly and at length, shaking his head, "Don't beat yourself over it, lass."

"... I can't but do it."

"Wisdom comes with age. It came to me after the battle where Thorin's father fell, as will it do with you... sooner or later."

H'anigi applied a fragile smile, "I'll try and remember that."

"It has more a tendency to invite itself." Balin chuckled softly as they stepped before the throne room's great and stolidly built entrance, "Now then, here we are. Take it from here, lass."

 _OoOoO_

When Thorin decided to assault Ravenhill, Dáin felt in his gut it was a poor decision. In this instance he hated to be proven right. Maybe if he had been more insistent, Thorin would still have walked these halls, ready to lead their people into a prosperous future.

As it was, Dáin now found himself in the position to do so instead.

 _Dáin Ironfoot, King under the Mountain._

In all his life, he never imagined for even an instant that fate would allow him to become the ruler of Erebor. Now to grant compensation to the lake-men, he could easily enough believe would happen due to reasons given. Returning the White Gems of Lasgalen to the King of Mirkwood, Dáin accepted as the product of a wish to avoid further bloodshed. Neither of these could measure up to the passing of rulership, yet even that was an easier pill to swallow than the next.

Even harder to take was Thorin's decision to relinquish the Arkenstone. Arguably it's for a good cause, the specifics of which was supplied by Dwalin, his brother Balin who had gone to bring her, and Gandalf who also was present. Bard and Thranduil – both of 'em pleased with what they've been granted – still remained, though Dáin suspected their decision came more from curiosity rather than proper observance of etiquette and procedure.

"For how long must we wait?" Thranduil asked dourly.

"Until she comes." Gandalf told him bluntly, "Balin will bring her as quickly as he may."

"Odd it is to be more patient than the immortal." Bard felt a need to verbally prod. A little joke Dáin liked plentifully even if he did not show it.

To his credit, the Elven King did not react.

"It won't be for much longer, I'm sure." Dwalin said, his shoulders held low before he ever so slightly perked up, "Ah, here they are."

No sooner did the last word leave him before the approaching woman's voice filled the air: "Just so you know, I know not head from ass about proper protocol and etiquette in meetings like this. So I'll just stick with 'You called?'."

Dáin turned, and for the first time got the chance to truly examine the miqo'te who walked just ahead of Balin who had just suffered the slight indignity of being rendered the runner in this matter. One thing he concluded quickly is that in terms of beauty standards she got her curves in all the right places, and her faint swagger held much feline grace and a faint amount of implied strength.

"You need not try and look brave, girl." Gandalf spoke up wearily, "Such loss followed by such altercation."

H'anigi's ears flattened as she turned her gaze on the wizard.

"I saw what happened between you and Bilbo, and how you followed him when he ran." Gandalf mentioned pointedly, glum in tone.

She sighed dully, "I only followed to make sure he in his grief would not throw himself from a high place. While I greatly care for him, Gandalf, on his side our friendship may very well be just a memory, cold and still. There was no more I could do but listen to him cry himself to sleep."

Gandalf drooped, "I see. Where is he now?"

"Some thirty or so pathways over yonder." she pointed out, "At a hotel from the looks of it."

"Mithril Horn Inn." Dáin muttered, distant memories of much merriment coming to mind. He still remembered the deliciously earthy rum served by its innkeeper.

"Dáin Ironfoot, I presume?" Dáin found himself under H'anigi's prompt scrutiny for his little outburst, "Excuse me, but without that huge helmet it was hard to tell."

He replied succinctly, a little brusque, "Aye, I am him. None other."

"Oh, good." the miqo'te nodded tamely, "Was an entertaining performance you provided out there, not many would mouth off at an army like you did."

"That's because he's got a pair made from diamonds." his Captain of the Guard roared mirthfully from his position by the exit, before he recognized with an all too obvious 'Oh' that he had spoken out of turn and fell silent.

"Good to know." H'anigi quipped in return.

"I do hope we will not further delve into the topic of dwarven scrotums." King Thranduil commented on the proceedings with the force of a demand while Bard desperately tried to stifle the urge to laugh.

"We won't." Dáin groused while he rubbed his temples, "H'anigi, is it?" he addressed, "I've learned from Dwalin here that Thorin wished for the Arkenstone to be bequeathed onto you, allegedly to activate an artifact of sorts."

She lowered her gaze, "That's the matter of it."

"While I will not dispute his wish, I would like to better know of this artifact before we proceed."

H'anigi hummed, momentarily in thought, "Meaning that you would like to see it?"

"I suppose that is one way to go about it." he confirmed.

"Alright, sure." she replied, curtly nodding her head, "In fact, we can go and get it done right away if you wish."

Dáin was silent for a few seconds, considering, "Right away?"

"Well, we got to walk down to the mines to find the transportation device first." H'anigi answered promptly, shifting uncomfortably, "Though I know not the specific direction, since I was rather unconscious at a time."

"Nothing to worry about." Balin supplied helpfully, "The rest of us know the way well."

"Splendid." Dáin spoke with satisfaction, "Let us be on our way then."

"If it's the same to you," Gandalf approached, looking to each of them, "I too would like to see this Aetheryte with mine own eyes."

"No objection here." H'anigi said simply.

Dáin looked up between them both, and shrugged, "Suppose it doesn't hurt. Any more?"

"Truthfully it matters little to me," Bard told them frankly, arms folded, "but... I would like to see what all the hubbub's about."

King Thranduil shifted slightly as if to speak, but H'anigi preempted him, ignoring his mildly scandalized expression while doing so: "Fair enough, and yeah, you can come too, Princess. We wouldn't want to let you feel left out."

At that, Dáin decided he liked her.

 _OoOoO_

Truth be told, Gandalf felt more eager than he has in a while, and found it surprisingly hard to maintain a dignified countenance as he followed the esteemed group – with a company of guards at their back – into the very bowels of Erebor. A great deal deeper even than the King of Mirkwood found palatable even if he continued to follow them with a veneer of curiosity that was in spite of its springiness kept strictly underneath his skin.

Deep they went, down stairs almost beyond number. Great enough that some grew concerned about how strenuous their trip back would doubtlessly be, most of them being of the race of man, unsurprisingly, though a few elves did voice their discomfort as well. Gandalf was notably less troubled than either, having toured a fair number of dwarven strongholds himself.

While a long trek, they eventually entered the relevant section, an expanse dotted by deep mining shafts. "It should be right here." Balin filled the silence that was otherwise consistently broken by their many footfalls as they walked by a particularly massive shaft, and saw around it and into the distance a great number of deep furrows inflicted by massive claws that could only have belonged to Smaug.

A dragon who likely still lived.

For now though, Gandalf focused his attention onward as they finally came to a large disc covered in strange patterns, much less caked by dust than everything else here. H'anigi explained to them along the way how this is going to work. It was too small to fit both them and their guard detail, and for safety sake they'll reduce the number of trips to as few as possible. Meaning only those of note here could travel down while their guard detail waited up here.

Nervous at what was to come, they boarded it. H'anigi was first, followed quickly by Balin and Dwalin who did so out of trust. Dáin, not to be outdone, strode onto the plate in a casual way. Gandalf followed at just about the same time, studious in his approach. Thranduil was second-last to come, and did so with cautiously sculpted indifference. Bard was last, and nervously did he join them, causing a mild scuffle as the disc had by then gotten verily crowded indeed. "You're certain this is safe?" Bard asked, and in the process of clearing a little bit of space for himself almost elbowed poor Dwalin in the face.

"So long as its used right, it is." H'anigi answered bluntly, "Now just give me a moment."

Gandalf did not object, instead he reflected on how silly they might all look, clustered on the disc like this. Especially when the moment dragged on without change. He thought to query her as to how much time she needed when his very being seemed to disperse, and a comfortable sensation of nothingness that would have embraced him was he not among the Maiar. So he was instead awake, after a fashion, and could thus experience in its entirety how he in both body and soul drifted along a current of starlight. Gandalf was stimulated by all that he perceived, and pushed eagerly at the edges of his consciousness, to gaze at what might lie beyond.

An attempt cut short as he before he knew it resurfaced into the material world, only to enter a space that was in its own way wholly alien.

Before him, a large chamber stretched, its walls and pillars covered in intricate patterns illuminated by colored light. Gandalf gazed at all of it, momentarily unaware of those he walked with as he stepped off the disc and wandered the chamber. His eyes drawn from the green-lit pillars, to the cyan walls, and the bronze mural in the far back, depicting a stern-faced giant.

"Who does that mural depict?" Balin wondered before he could.

"Xande, Emperor Of The Allagan Empire." a dark voice droned as a golden cube rose from a socket in the floor, "On Your Knees And Be Awed."

"Yeah, yeah. We hear you." H'anigi interrupted the curious object with the shake of a hand, "We got the item."

It invisibly bobbed in place, "Acknowledged. Insert When Ready."

She looked onto the rest of them, "Who's got the Arkenstone currently?"

Dáin, who received it from Bard during the earlier meeting, just barely managed to quench the gobsmacked expression he just wore before he called attention to himself by rumbling an "I do." and brought out the artifact.

"Thanks." the miqo'te said with a smile as she snatched it from the dwarf lord's palm, and proceeded to walk past the golden cube she had not bothered to introduce them to.

"Now if I may ask," Thranduil drawled, watching her evenly, "where is this Aetheryte so spoken of?"

"Right here." she took to a knee before the pedestal of a large dim object, "It's dormant as you may can tell, but that changes in a few." and leaned into a square-shaped opening from which was issued a brilliant light. "Here we go~"

While smiling broadly, H'anigi withdrew from the opening and closed it firmly shut. Gandalf supposed she was successful and waited, suspenseful, with all the rest as she slowly stood and took a few steps from the curious pillar.

Then it lit.

"Beginning Aetheryte Activation Sequence." the cube announced, its flat voice sounding almost triumphant.

Gandalf felt a minuscule shift in the air.

H'anigi apparently sensed likewise as she folded the arms round her chest, her breath shuddering. "What is going on?" Dwalin asked.

"All the excess aether in Erebor's being sucked in to light the Aetheryte all at once. So much... so fast."

 _That's what it is?_ Gandalf wondered, and he focused strongly on this shift, struggling to in full perceive what she could. An effort for only a slight gain as the shift quickly ended, and the pillar reacted in full. Just moments ago it just barely glowed a faint light from deep inside of itself, but now it shone brightly like a star, and a vast portion of it slowly but gracefully lifted off from the socket, and circled round its own axis. A light strong enough that they had to cover their eyes... until it faded into a far gentler form.

He looked again, and watched in amazement he did not even bother to veil. What hovered before them was a massive crystal that shone gently a sky-blue light onto them, its countless facets glittering as though with the light of many distant stars.

All of them stared onto this spectacle with wonder, and even Thranduil appeared impressed, his eyes wide with awe. It was beautiful.

"Nexus Installation #003 Active." the cube interrupted them tactlessly, caring only for its supposed purposes, "Global Connection Established. All Nexus Installations Active."

"Huh?" Bard stared at the cube perplexedly, then looked to the equally confused H'anigi as if expecting she knew what was about to happen.

"Beginning Global Network Activation Sequence." it continued imperiously, and on that note slid back into its socket with a proclamation, "Preparations Nearly Concluded. Victory To Allag! Victory to Xande!" before it finally fell silent.

Suddenly, the right-hand wall in its entirely shifted, reshuffling countless small tiles as if to form a picture that spanned across the entirety of its length and width. A picture that to their shared astonishment turned out to be a full map of Middle-Earth, elaborate beyond belief.

Then a dot appeared upon it, indicating the Lonely Mountain. A lonely light joined by one at Dunland, followed by two in the Misty Mountains, one in Moria of all places, then one at the Shire. Several followed neatly in places both near and distant.

And dozens more after that.

In mere heartbeats the whole world changed before his eyes, revealing the locations of such a multitude of Aetherytes the people of Middle-Earth never knew existed – far more than he anticipated prior. A great number unfortunately in places of great evil. Three of these in Mordor.

"This is..." King Thranduil whispered, nearly speechless.

"Aetherytes." Gandalf explained as he approached the map, "To know that all of these have been underneath our very noses."

"Aye, this is insane..." Dáin muttered, incredulous, "I cannot believe this."

"Yet we have no choice but try and get a handle on this."

"Every lord worthy of trust must be told. Every Kingdom not in the Enemy's hands." Thranduil uneasily agreed, gaze fixed on the sole dot in Mirkwood. Both of them by now knew well from information given what Aetherytes could be used for, and understood what advantage could be brought to those who possess these artifacts.

"We need cartographers first. Informing them will do little without the knowledge of these things' locations."

"There's one among those who remained in Esgaroth." Bard joined in, picking up on the urgency, "I could send a rider soon as we get back out."

Gandalf smiled at the man's initiative, "Much appreciated, bowman. Nevertheless, we need more..."

 _OoOoO_

In large part due to the journey now behind them, Dwalin felt tempted to get involved as the statesmen and Wizard animatedly debated on what had just been laid at their feet, and what must be done. His brain on the other hand recognized he was far out of his depth. Only his status as the keeper of Thorin's Will had warranted his presence among them in the first place. So rather than waste his time trying to join in he found his attention wander onto other things.

Such as the rectangular stone suddenly thrown to Balin, who just barely caught it.

"H'anigi," the elderly dwarf started a question in slight shock as he looked from the item and up to the miqo'te who was neatly framed by the Aetheryte's celestial light, "why are you handing me this?"

"It's for the traveling device." she informed neatly, "Hand it to the wizard when they're done, and tell him he just need to picture in his mind exactly the destination."

"Why?" Dwalin growled, his eyes widening as the meaning quickly sank in, "You're saying it like..."

"You don't intend to stay any further, do you?" Balin caught up the quickest.

H'anigi cast her gaze down,"There's no point in me staying further."

"But... there are plenty reasons."

"Such as to mourn and celebrate, and giving proper farewells to all of you..." the miqo'te squirmed uncomfortably, "And my promise to Bilbo. Or, that is, it's exactly because of the promise that I will have to leave earlier than I would like."

"Why?" Dwalin asked.

She paused for a sparse few seconds, and reluctantly retrieved a minuscule object from her pocket, and held it up in the palm of her left hand. It was the mysterious Ring they tried to destroy not so long ago. "That is..." Balin faintly stuttered.

"I took it from Bilbo while he slept." she recounted remorsefully, "Rather than run the risks of a quest we might not survive, I've elected to take this as far away from him as possible, to Eorzea."

"What about the ill inflicted upon him already," Dwalin protested, "and what it could do to you?"

"That's the question, but from my world it can do him no more harm. As for me, I plan on sealing it away someplace the first chance I get..."

Balin shook his head, "Why would you take on such a risk?"

"Because I'm a murderer, and Bilbo isn't." H'anigi stated in utter solemnity, "Such a burden shouldn't be his to bear." and wearily sighed, "On that note, I have a favor to ask of you. Two actually..."

"Tell us." Balin asked sadly.

She fixed her gaze on them fully, a weak smile on her lips,"Far as you can manage, take care of Bilbo for me. As for the other... tell them I said goodbye, and that I'll never forget all of you, nor the journey we together undertook."

Dwalin nodded slowly, "Of course."

"As far as we're able." Balin echoed the motion.

H'anigi also did so, watching them with mournful eyes before she began to turn.

"Lass." Dwalin stopped her, "Just to let you know, I care not about your past. We consider you a friend of ours, and we always will. Just do us one favor."

"Name it." she replied.

"Smile."

H'anigi seemed somewhat surprised by that request, and moistened her lips as she nodded again and managed to force a smile that turned gradually into a more genuine one.

"There you go, lass." Balin grinned, "Leave us not on some grief-ridden note. Worry not for us, and focus on what lie ahead of you."

"Thank you, Balin, Dwalin. Thank you." H'anigi replied, managing to keep herself bright as she completed what was left of her turn and raised a hand, palm open, toward the great crystal. It was implied that she closed her eyes and focused on where she wanted to go, and gave a confirmation, "I can feel it. A network lie so distant, but I feel my destination. I feel my home town lie just beyond it."

"Home. It's such a simple word." Dwalin whispered, noticing that the statesmen have ended their conversation, their eyes now focused on them, and especially her, "Yet its so precious. So implacable. Filled with warmth and certainty."

"It is." H'anigi agreed heartily, "... I'm going now. Farewell, my friends."

"Farewell, lass." he replied alongside his brother, before a tendril of transparent something – possibly Aether, so thick even they could clearly see it – shone from the Aetheryte and enveloped her. The miqo'te's form blurred once, and abruptly vanished before the tendril in a final gesture melted back into the Aetheryte's dazzling light.

Just like that, it was as though a chapter was closed, and a new age begun.

 _OoOoO_

Bilbo knew not for how long he slept, but when he finally woke... he was certain the night had fully passed. So it was with a tad of listlessness that he plucked himself from the blanket and left the bedroom with every intention to go and look for...

A thought that to his bewilderment drew a blank.

Why did he feel as though something was missing?

Reflexively did he drop his hand into his pocket, and finally, startled, understood what he felt was absent. That infernal Ring of his was gone.

He looked back into the bedroom he had left and examined all of the floor. When he found no sign of it, he looked beyond and tried to backtrack through he passages he used on his way here. A search that amounted to nothing.

Where was it?

But as he continued his search, it occurred to him that something else was off. Bilbo knew in every measure the compulsion to find and retrieve the cursed item, but found none of the seething desperation or possessive rage he usually associated with it. An oddity that remained with him without sign of escalation as he followed the halls and passages.

So puzzled was Bilbo that he did not even notice Glóin who eventually approached, "Ah, there you are lad!"

"Glóin?" Bilbo replied slowly, absently, "What are you doing here?"

"Was looking for you." the dwarf said, "Is ought amiss?"

"I suppose there is..."

"Breakfast should help with that. Bombur has arranged a afeast for all us..."

"N-no, I really should..."

"Come." Glóin insisted, his words heavy, "We need to talk."

A lump suddenly formed in Bilbo's throat, though he knew not why. Part of him surmised this and the Ring's disappearance was somehow connected. It should, possibly, be a good thing, yet he got a bad feeling of it he could not shake off. Still, he complied and followed to the more crowded outer gates where the rest of what remained of Thorin's Company had assembled round a campfire complete with a steaming pot full with what appeared to be soup.

Glóin pointed to an available spot next to Balin before he took a seat at the other one, right between Bofur and Óin. Glibly did he take the place, and was handed a full bowl by a well-meaning Bombur, "Here you go. Eat up."

"M-my thanks." he stuttered, and sampled the food carefully – as if expecting it to somehow catch fire.

"Thorin, Fili, and Kili's funeral's going to take place tonight." Bifur told them almost conversationally, "Dáin's folks have almost finished cleaning out a good chamber in the Royal Crypts."

"Good to hear." Dwalin said somberly, picking at the food.

Murmurs of agreement passed all around.

Bilbo joined in, but not heartily. Something nagged at him.

"How are you feeling, Bilbo?" Balin inquired suddenly after seconds of further pause.

Briefly did Bilbo consider the question, and wondered if it had aught to do with what Glóin said. "Uh," he started, scratching the back of his head, "I suppose I feel a little... stretched. Was just looking..."

"For the Ring?"

He blinked awkwardly, looking to the others who strangely enough eyed him faintly with... concern? "Yes... it's missing."

Balin gazed at him, probing, "You seem not overly pressed about it."

"I, well, why are you asking? How do you know...?"

Dwalin glanced to his brother, "Looks like H'anigi's little gambit worked... to a point at least."

"Aye." Balin slowly agreed.

Bilbo was completely out at sea even as he sat straighter, "Gambit ... Have you somehow managed to destroy it?" he looked side to side between all of the others who all appeared to know more than they let on, not reacting to their topic with any lack of comprehension. An air of melancholy, however, left him cold. "What's wrong?"

Glóin sighed, leaving no doubt that everything has been revealed to the company, "She left for home a few scarce hours ago."

"Or, to elaborate," Balin gazed into the fire, "she resolved to free you from the Ring's influence by taking it with her to Eorzea."

Dori bobbed his head, holding out his bowl to be given another portion, "So it's no longer in Erebor... or in all of Middle-Earth at all for that matter."

"B-but... she left?" Bilbo blinked once, twice, thrice, stunned, "Did not even stay long enough to say farewell?"

"She did, of course, if only through me and Balin. We were in position to see her off." Dwalin informed, "As for the timing, you'd probably react severely if you woke and found her with your Ring in hand. Departure just had to happen quickly."

"Still," he dropped the bowl and stood, feeling deeply distraught, "I... but I... Our last two conversations turned into arguments, and I in my pain leveled an accusation at her. I wanted someone to blame for Thorin's death, for his nephews demise, and I chose her. You're saying she still left with helping me in mind after all of that?"

None of the dwarves replied, or maybe they did. Unbeknownst to himself, Bilbo was deaf to all sound beside his own, "And because I chose to run away... I never got a chance to apologize."

Sorrow was thus more than joy the end note of this venture. Bilbo plopped back down among the dwarves, and felt Balin's hand upon his back to offer reassurance. Alas, he still heard no words and palmed his face. He fell in full to a depth of exhaustion. It was not a desire for sleep, but his Tookish side withdrawing and the Baggins asserting itself. He was weary of adventure, and now ached in his very bones for the journey homeward.

 _OoOoO_

When H'anigi reemerged to the physical world, a chilled night was what greeted her. She stood unsteadily from what had been a lengthy trip through the aether and looked to the darkened sky and then down to the surrounding town that has seemingly changed little from when she last was here many years ago. At first she found no one around and took a few cautious steps from where the town's Aetheryte was placed.

"Halt!"

She stopped herself dead and turned to the voice's owner, arms raised. Patiently did she remain as a clearly feminine figure dressed in armor strode to her, torch in hand, and held it close.

"Rather late time for a visit to our village, isn't it?"

"I wasn't aware of the lateness." H'anigi replied gingerly, squinting at the harsh light of her torch, "This was not intended as a visit anyways."

"Hoh. What's your name?"

"H'anigi Tohl."

"You're one of H'tohl Tia's brood, huh?" the guard muttered, narrowing her eyes in thought, "So have you gotten your fill of traveling and decided to come home and settle down."

"My intention exactly." H'anigi confirmed simply, not too surprised her father's gone down a step. It happened often enough for Tia and Nunh to switch places.

"Hm." she nodded, "I'd welcome you, but that's up to the Nunhs. Most of the tribe's assembled at the tavern for supper, so you may find them there. Off you go."

"Thank you."

Having cleared that bit, H'anigi ventured on to where the tavern was, hopeful she hasn't forgotten its precise location. A fear turned unfounded as she approached a large structure and heard ample sounds from within. People chatted, devoured their meals, and children made a racket of their own. Each sound familiar and hinted toward how crowded the place was. Nervously, H'anigi pushed its main entrance agape and moved in.

True to every expectation, all of the tables were packed. Most of those feasting being females, which was of no surprise whatsoever, several of whom looked up at her as she strode past, more curious than hostile. The splotches of dried blood, smell of ample sweat, and a somewhat unkempt appearance for sure helped her make a solid impression. Question was whether it was for ill or good.

Under this attention, embarrassment rode H'anigi as she made for where the much fewer males were gathered, a few of them already watching her closely.

One of their attendants blocked her path suddenly, "State your purpose, stranger."

"I am no stranger." H'anigi said wearily, "I am H'anigi Tohl, and have come home with every intention to stay."

Slowly did the attendant look back at a well-dressed male in his late thirties, who provided a single nod and the wave of a single finger. Without ado, she stepped aside and allowed the marauder to pass.

"Welcome back, daughter of H'tohl." the male said, a scar running down his cheek a familiar sight, "So many years have passed since you left our village. Come, sit."

"Thank you." she briefly bowed and sat on the chair offered, managing a grateful smile as next a cup of water was provided.

"Must have been quite an adventure." he who she recognized vaguely as H'rhalar Nunh spoke while eying her.

She made an effort not to grimace, "Yeah, it was. Most of it was spent in Limsa Lominsa though."

"A harsh place."

"Indeed."

"Has there been a war there recently?"

"Not really, but there was one elsewhere I ended up participating in."

"I hope you didn't come here for the sake of escaping whatever enemies you've made along the way."

"No reason to worry." she shook her head, "War's over, and it's far too distant to affect this place in any way."

H'rhalar hummed, "I pray you speak the truth, daughter of H'tohl."

"If I turn out to be wrong, I'll leave before trouble takes the village."

"Very good. I assume you know that you must pull your own weight around here."

H'anigi nodded.

"Good. Tell me, what skills do you bring from abroad?"

"I'm a trained marauder and miner, well versed with axe and pick both."

"We don't have many marauders around here." H'rhalar murmured, "Can you hunt, or have you only fought?"

"I can do both."

"Excellent." he purred with approval, "We've been having some issue with poachers intruding on our hunting grounds. It'll be good to have one who has seen war to bolster our cadre of hunters."

"I'll do my utmost to help." H'anigi smiled, and squirmed, "Just... one thing."

"Yes?"

"Well, is there any Nunh here who within the foreseeable future is available for a coupling with me?"

A small grin grew on him, "So you look to also add to our next generation as well?"

She nodded in faint embarrassment, "I am."

"Most of us got quite a packed schedule, but I know one who's currently out trading, and in your age group. I'll talk to him about giving you a visit when he returns in a few days time."

"I'd love that, thank you."

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine." H'rhalar chuckled mirthfully, "Not everyone returning from their journeys are so able and willing to contribute to their tribe's growth. Now let us dispense with business and enjoy ourselves. Many of us, I am sure, may well be interested in hearing whatever tale you have to offer from your journey, like this war you fought."

The male did not exaggerate, for many around them had listened to their exchange and wanted to know more though not many spoke up beyond the more boisterous ones.

"I suppose I can," H'anigi agreed, "though it's a long story that started when I first tried to come here weeks ago."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, it's impossible to tell of the war without explaining the events that led up to it, and even then I believe most of you will not even begin to believe my story, and regard it as no more than a fairy tale. I was accessing an Aetheryte, just about to come here, when it mysteriously sent me off course and to a far-away land."

H'rhalar ran a hand through his goatee, "That's certainly something I've never known to happen."

"Neither did I, so it naturally came to me as a great surprise. Instead of this village, I ended up in the bowels of a mountain... at the foot of a dormant Aetheryte." she described, and chose then to whip out the Ring she had brought here from Arda, holding it up for every watching eye to see, "It was the beginning of an adventure beyond my wildest dreams, and in many ways... it began with the discovery of this one Ring."

* * *

 **Author Notes:** This took ages to write... but we are almost at the second arc! Only one short chapter featuring Bilbo and one other remain before we will venture forth to Heavensward/Lord of the Rings.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Intermission  
**

* * *

Ever since that day of woe, Bilbo took to count the days and months as they passed. A habit born from his newfound homesickness as his Tookish side receded. Because of this, he stayed in Erebor for no longer than it took to finish the long succession of ceremonies, the most important being the funeral where he bid Thorin, Fili and Kili a final farewell. When those completed, he bid farewell to Balin and Dwalin, to Glóin and Óin, to Ori, Nori, and Dori, to Bifur, Bofur and Bombur. Not a final one, mind, for he bade them come visit if they ever strolled by, and they needed not bother to knock.

All said and done, he set for home. A journey that would have been mighty lonely for great stretches of it were it not for Gandalf who pledged to come with for as long as it took to reach the Shire.

Even so, they again were not by themselves for a while yet. King Thranduil and what remained of his great host marched alongside till Mirkwood. A place Bilbo did not wish to enter, so he and Gandalf chose the long way around. Even then they were not by themselves, as Beorn too chose to follow suit, and invited them for a stay at his house for when they got there.

After a pleasant stay therein, they – now by themselves – traveled across the Misty Mountains, and made only a prolonged stop when they arrived at Rivendell where Gandalf had to conduct some business of importance Bilbo found himself less than curious about in spite of the implied scale of it.

Days after, business apparently concluded for now, they made for and reached the borders of the Shire at long last. It was like a dream to Bilbo when he once again trod through the starting stretches his homeland, and looked upon a comely landscape alight with natural beauty. Fields and hills of green stretched before him, broken only by flowers positively radiant in the light of day, and trees that towered over him, their crowns rustling in the gentle wind.

Bilbo was mesmerized by the sights, until a sigh drew his attention to the wizard who came to a stop with a sort of inevitable finality, "The borders of the Shire." Gandalf intoned the words he spoke months ago when they departed from the Lonely Mountain, "It is here I must leave you."

For a moment he simply stared back before he found his words. "That's a shame." Bilbo strode to the wizard, looking up at him, "I quite like having a wizard around. It seems they bring good luck."

"You don't really suppose, do you, that all of your adventures and escapes were managed by mere luck?" Gandalf shrugged, "Magic rings should not be used lightly, Bilbo."

Bilbo only gaped at him, surprised.

"Don't take me for a fool. I know you found one in the goblin tunnels."

"Oh my goodness." he sighed in slight resignation. It would seem Gandalf heard from the others. Still, it mattered very little to him as he offered a hand, "Farewell, Gandalf."

Gandalf nodded and shook his hand, "Farewell."

And he was off, but no more than a few feet did he traverse before he got it in mind to turn around, "You really need not worry about that ring, Gandalf. H'anigi took it with when she went home."

The wizard blinked.

"It was a dangerous thing to be sure, one I am glad to be rid off." Bilbo said, reminiscing as he wheeled back and continued on his way to his hole in Hobbiton, unaware of how alarmed Gandalf grew all the while, "Strangely, though, in spite of how much I detested it... for a short while there, it was... precious to me."

 _OoOoO_

Mordor.

Choked in volcanic ash and frequently bathed in poisonous fumes courtesy of its resident and oft active volcano known by the ominous name of Mt. Doom, most of the people of Middle-Earth could not be faulted in their belief in it as an uninhabitable hellscape. As it stood, the only people who live there – if for lack of better places – are minions of the Dark Lord who long ago chose Mordor for his fortress. Orcs, trolls, and many other loathsome creatures fester within that ill-boding place, each darker than the last.

Creatures that have congregated to this dark place for many years in numbers beyond count, and continue to do so. Smaug looked on from his perch in Barad-dûr, A dark place destroyed to its foundations during the War of the Last Alliance back in the Second Age, yet now a hub of frenzied activity as legions of lesser creatures toiled to rebuild it. He watched them go at it, but bothered not even consider to provide them with aid, for his duty would come later. He pledged his allegiance to the Dark Lord and provided what information he could to questions asked, and that sufficed for now - particularly in light of his recent injuries.

Therefore, his mighty frame was measured meticulously by a small army of orcs afterward that would upon the completion of appropriate facilities produce for him a coat of armor to provide protection where little remained.

Once that particular formality was done, he sifted into place on the perch he was provided and settled into what was for him little more than a short nap that was broken only by a bright blue sheen that stirred in him something primal. A fear for the dread guardians that evicted him from Erebor and inflicted the severe injuries he now sported in the first place.

Smaug burst from his slumber and rose, gaze cast down to what could be considered the Barad-dûr's plaza. In it stood a grand crystal that itself hovered above a pedestal newly grafted into the plaza's center by orcish stonemasons and massive olog-hai. He made a prompt inquiry about this addition to the Witch King who oversaw this addition personally, and learned that this is just one of several uncovered so far, all of them being distributed to various fortresses throughout Sauron's realm. The fallen man was rather sparse on the details on how these were found, but such details mattered not to Smaug who cared only for their purpose.

On that latter point at least he was not disappointed.

Allowance for swifter travel than ever known aside, these crystals would allow entry into this other world so spoken of. All that remained was to find out how to use them.

Confident and secretly reassured that they would uncover the secrets of these crystals in due time, Smaug doused himself into a more lengthy nap even as his heart burned with ambition. From now, after all, it would only be a matter of time. What came to him thus as he dreamed, was a fantasy of desires fulfilled, before it suddenly ended as a battle cry was issued through a piercing scream of such high pitch and strength that not even he was spared from the resulting tinnitus.

Smaug once again rose, this time with the sense that many more years have passed and frenziedly looked upon a Barad-dûr on the cusp of completion in search for whatever warranted such a call to arms... till his gaze fell back upon the Aetheryte below where all of the Nine of Sauron's Nazgûl now stood assembled at the forefront of a small sea of beastly warriors, their blades of Morgul make arrayed against a strange man dressed in a white robe, his face obscured by a fiery red mask.

It seemed a rather overt a response, before it occurred to Smaug that this stranger might have come through the crystal. If so, capture was paramount, and added numbers would help in case the stranger posed more a threat than apparent.

Smaug spread his wings, about to add his might to the throng, when an unnatural quiet settled upon the whole of Barad-dûr caused him to stiffen, and the orcs to quail. Only the Nazgûl remained unaffected as a shroud of fathomless shadow flowed into the plaza till it all but obscured the ashen skies and coalesced into a lidless eye that burned with malice truly beyond mortal ability to imagine, its scorched pupil narrowing as Sauron the Great focused all of his attention upon the intruder who appeared to only gaze back, his expression unreadable.

"Who dares..." Sauron hissed, his words more felt – with blistering heat – than heard, "Who dares enter my domain?"

Suspense hung in the air like a noose, and many were those who expected this stranger to catch fire and die screaming from the Dark Lord's seething words alone.

"I offer you my most humble greetings and salutations, lord of these lands." the stranger did not follow to expectation. Instead he took to a knee, "I apologize for this sudden intrusion, but a certain efficacy was required."

Without waiting for an answer, he continued; "Lord of these lands; I see within you power most blessed, undeniable; and your will indomitable, beyond reproach. I see also your intent for the cursed Hydaelyn, for her children, and I welcome it."

"I am the emissary of the Ascians, and on their behalf offer to you power and knowledge both, and promise you the fullest of cooperation, so you may cover her realm in everlasting shadow."

Silence. No one dared breathe, not even Smaug, as Sauron's eye bristled. What happened the next few moments would decide whether the man would live on... or perish in the most excruciating manner the immortal deemed appropriate. Sauron appeared to ponder, followed by abrupt convulsions on the self-proclaimed Ascian's part as the Maiar's pitch black pupil narrowed dangerously. Not about to take this stranger up on his worded offers alone, the Dark Lord delved into his mind... and did so most ungently in his search for falseness. There would be no deceiving the deceiver.

A search that concluded with surprising curtness as Sauron withdrew his shadows, "Your name, Ascian."

The emissary simply bowed as he recovered, and actually smiled, "I am but a humble emissary, your greatness. I am Elidibus."

* * *

 **Author notes:** A short chapter just slightly longer than two pages. Did say this one would be a short one, though. It will do at least to serve as a bridge of sorts between the arch completed, and the upcoming one.

As for an answer to comments:

Reishin Amara: Words can't really describe how much of an overkill that would have been.

Merlinius Ambrosius: Purchasing the lore book's on the to-do list, though it'll probably take a while before the store restocks. Was late to finding out about it.

Kairitrion Cerulean: Ow, so much that could result in spoilers if answered, so I'll just answer to the matter of Kili's COD. Livers can regenerate, yes, but his was pretty much destroyed. So his death was sadly at that point unavoidable.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Gray Wanderer**

* * *

"Frodo?" Bilbo called out for the fifth time as he traversed the hallways of Bag End, curious and somewhat annoyed. This always happened when he needed the boy's help with something, but it would seem he once again has gone out as young ones are wont to do. Probably to the pub or carrying out on some mischief. If the latter he hoped Frodo would stay clear well of the Gaffer, an old farmer who oft applied ample bite to his bark whenever someone entered his vegetable field unbidden.

Resigned to seeing his adopted nephew come back home with bruises he walked out on the front porch and sat on the bench next to it with a lit pipe in hand and contentedly puffed away on it, eyes fixed on a beautiful dawn almost uncanny in its familiarity.

It was on a day like this that he joined Thorin's company on their journey to the Lonely Mountain.

A journey that became so much more than he ever bargained for. He both gained and lost friends over the course of it, and experienced what no other hobbit had for many generations – if ever. Because of these things he was a treasure trove for exciting stories, and children oft came to pry them out of him even as their parents looked on disapprovingly.

Bilbo didn't mind. It was not like he still had any reputation left to lose among the well-to-do families, many of whom have not yet forgiven him for returning alive from his adventure – especially the Sackville Bagginses, who greatly coveted his hobbit hole.

Since then, he paid little attention to the going on of the outside world except to collect the occasional map... and was thus more or less surprised when an Aetheryte was one day – seven years after the end of his journey – set up in the town square of Hobbiton, courtesy of a dwarven expedition that hailed from the nearby Blue Mountains. And the first to come through the mystical crystal was none other than Gandalf himself, who had seized upon the opportunity to visit.

Apparently, in the years that followed the Battle of the Five Armies, a massive effort was launched by almost every Kingdom and lordship in the West. Expeditions were dispatched to dig up and retrieve Aetherytes from the hidden places of the world, and set them up in every settlement of sufficient size and/or importance while Rivendell, Lothlõrien in conjunction with the Istari pooled their resources to study the crystals and device a method of transit, the latter which they completed in a matter of months thanks to Gandalf's own experiences and the information divulged by Balin and the others on the subject of 'Aether' – however sparse it was.

Truly it was an information-heavy visit, but enjoyable nonetheless, especially as they embarked on what his dwarven friends are going. For instance; Balin's leading one of the expedition with Óin and Ori at his back, Dwalin currently serving as a Captain in Erebor's army, while Bombur's gotten so fat from overeating that he needs a crew of youngsters to carry him around.

Many laughs were had, and Bilbo smiled at the memory as he lowered the pipe and blew out a smoke ring he then watched linger till it faded, taken away by the morning breeze. It did not take long though before the smile turned to a resigned sigh, for the meeting was not without its sour note.

A singular letdown that persisted as the years passed.

Even with all the progress made... there has been no attempt to cross over to Hydaelyn. And to this day, thirty-three years later, just five days short of his ninetieth birthday, that particular state of affairs has yet to change. The old Wizard never answered his inquiries as to the 'why', but Bilbo got the distinct impression that Gandalf was embarrassed about it.

 _Well, that's a bummer..._ Bilbo who was not interested in further adventure and had not bothered to learn how to travel through Aetherytes thought somberly, before he was brought from his rumination by distant songs and laughter all too recognizable. The out of breath nature of it made him stand up and crane his neck in a stern observance of the visible portion of the neighborhood. It took no more than a moment before he found a roughed up Frodo chuckling and singing alongside a few of his friends – all to a man equally dirty. One of them, Peregrin Took from the looks of it, carried along a basket full of freshly picked vegetables and mushrooms. Stolen goods no doubt.

Safe to say, they've paid the Gaffer a visit. He was willing to bet a silver on that possibility.

Which meant the irascible old hobbit would in all probability come by within the day. More annoyed than before, Bilbo prepared to give his adopted nephew a real earful.

 _So much for a wholesome morning..._

 _OoOoO_

Rivendell.

A beautiful place of peace and learning founded by Elrond in the Second Age after Eregion's fall during what came to be named after as the War of the Elves and Sauron. A history that made it a most apt place for meetings of the White Council, a group formed in opposition to Sauron upon the suggestion of Lady Galadriel. The ancient settlement's splendor such that usually Gandalf for a still moment would have paused to savor the sights, appreciative of its tranquility that so earned it its description as the Last Homely House East of the Sea.

Not so at this time as he turned and gazed upon the Aetheryte he came through at great length, and reminisced about the events that brought him here today.

When he parted from Bilbo forty years ago, it was with a tumultuous mind greatly disquieted by the hobbit's final choice of words concerning the Ring he claimed was taken away to Hydaelyn. Words that raised many questions he decided not to trouble the hobbit with.

Instead he dug into ancient archives at every opportunity to uncover all there is to know about the Rings of Power, and Isildur – the long since passed High King of Gondor. Opportunities that turned replete as the network of Aetherytes across the West grew and allowed him to more easily step away from his other duties – which among them included the ongoing research.

One of the most pivotal findings during his search in the old archives of Gondor was a single parchment written by Isildur himself:

 _'It was hot when I first took it, hot as a glede, and my hand was scorched, so that I doubt if ever again I shall be free of the pain of it. But for my part I will risk no hurt to this thing: Of all the works of Sauron the only fair. It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain.'_

Gandalf found his suspicions to be vindicated by this most pivotal piece of evidence, but saw how it could be dismissed by Saruman as groundless and wild guesswork. He needed a link to connect the dots between the location where it vanished from history... and the place Bilbo found it in. A line of thought that led him to pursue a creature Bilbo spoke of during one of his visits to the Shire.

Bilbo named him as... Gollum.

Once done with that bout of visitation he enlisted every tracker, every wanderer, every ranger, and every hunter that could be called on on a short notice and requested for them to keep an eye out for the creature with every emphasis placed on the importance of its capture.

A search that concluded better than five months ago when the man who explicitly preferred to go by the name of Strider found and captured Gollum in the Dead Marshes, of all places, and brought it to the Woodland Realm where Gandalf soon after arrived, and engaged it in a less than brutal interrogation where he was soon surprised to find that Gollum was in fact very loose-lipped, a welcome trait unfortunately downplayed by his mind being an utter mess of half-forgotten memories likely not helped at all by its single-minded obsession, and split personality.

To claim useful information from Gollum was like trying to squeeze water from a rock.

Still, a week ago he managed to get all that remained of what he needed, and compiled all his findings into a satchel he now carried. All that remained was to provide it for the Council's perusal. Gandalf nodded to self in well-earned satisfaction, and turned from the Aetheryte in time to see a stout dwarf approach – who did not need to be introduced.

"Ah, Gandalf!" Glóin greeted gladly, arms held wide, "I did not expect to see ye today."

"Glóin son of Gróin, I must say likewise." Gandalf said amiably, "Have you come on behalf of your King?"

"Aye, Dale and we got an Easterling problem along our shared border.

Gandalf acknowledged this with a thoughtful nod, "So the great enemy has begun to commit his forces..."

"Aye, and because of that I've been about to rally some support for when the hammer falls." Glóin said grimly, "See if them elves bother to actually help us this time."

"I wouldn't worry." the wizard shook his head, "Things are not the same they were a couple centuries past. Better relations between dwarves and elves there hasn't been in an age."

"Will believe it when I see them, Gandalf." the elderly dwarf clucked, "Now, while we're on the topic of preparations... you look more burdened than usual."

He chuckled, "Do I?"

"Aye. In my experience, little though it may be, beside the obvious ye carry not much more than your sword and walking stick. Here ye've gone and brought a heavy satchel. Got an adventure in mind for some poor sap out there?"

"If today's convocation of the White Council passes the way I pray it will..." Gandalf said glibly and paused, "A journey might very well start on this day."

"So I was right, huh." Glóin grinned, "Where to?"

"The furthest one can theoretically travel."

Glóin whistled, "Hydaelyn, huh. So the day has come at last?"

"If Saruman allows." Gandalf said wistfully.

"Stubborn as an oak, that fellow. Still, am glad to know _someone's_ doing something about that particular issue. No one dares to even consider braving that particular aetherial route after that whole rumor came about."

 _Ah yes, all of the implications of what might have caused the Istari and elves to fear that route..._ Gandalf was too embarrassed to state the true reason why the White Council took no more than one peep in that direction and decided to write it off altogether. It certainly had nothing to do with any evil entities in hiding, ready to pounce on passing souls. His own trepidation still remained from that day, and was one he needed to finally push past now that the need for it was dire.

"To have a ban instituted and do no more's a bloody waste." the dwarf continued, "Imagine what trading opportunities might be on the other side, not to mention the backup we could potentially rouse into action."

"Imagination alone won't compel my compatriots." Gandalf waved a hand, "A more tangible carrot is required."

"Like what?" Glóin's bushy brows seemed to vanish into his hood in blunt curiosity.

"Well," Gandalf started, brows furrowed, before a distinctly familiar ambiance in the air suddenly brushed through and around him. A sensation he last time felt years ago, during the Erebor Aetheryte's activation. Glóin on the other hand did not appear to have noticed this at all, but his attention was nevertheless drawn to the Aetheryte. Not out of any degree of wonder, but undisguised irritation.

"Oh perfect." the dwarf crooned unhappily, "Such an inconvenient flicker I could do well without."

Gandalf followed his gaze, and watched in fascination as the Aetheryte flashed its normally gentle light unsteadily from all that Aether it had suddenly leaked inexplicably. Twenty-seven years ago was when Gandalf first heard about the flicker phenomenon, but due to lack of luck and its seeming randomness he has never been able to see it happen in person before now. In any case, as indicated by Glóin, given the assumed instability, whenever a flicker happened people withdrew a distance from the affected Aetheryte and made no attempt to transit until the light normalized. A detail reinforced as the elves in sight pulled away in a guarded manner.

Gandalf didn't follow suit, and instead closed in on the erratically blinking crystal to the protest of those around him. A reaction further greatened when he raised a hand and briefly tapped into the network.

At first nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The pathways remained clear.

Being of the Maiar, much greater in spirit than all but the greatest beings under Eru Ilúvatar, he could reach into and see these pathways and the distance involved with perfect clarity. With this, he gleamed every which way and found nothing problematic. It would seem the flicker was harmless a phenomenon. Before detaching, though, Gandalf took one look at the Hydaelyn pathway and fought down the urge to shudder upon the sight of it.

What he expected to see was the object of great fear for the White Council: A path that stretched impossibly far into the distance without any apparent end, surrounded by empty void. So many questions stopped further exploration: For how long does this path stretch? Does the connection yet remain? Was there a chance for them to veer off the path and fall into the depthless void?

Many more questions harried them, each more foreboding than the last. None of them with an answer.

But when Gandalf completed the turn... he gasped at a spectacle most unexpected. Far ahead of himself yet closer than forever; something gleamed like the Aetheryte itself currently did. A sight that immediately assaulted his mind with theories on what this entailed. Still, whatever the case, the flicker would not last for much longer if reports are accurate. This discovery demanded for a decision to be made with great immediacy.

A decision he has already made. Gandalf took from his shoulder the satchel and hurled it to Glóin who in a bark of surprise caught it. "Glóin son of Gróin, I beseech you: Take this to the White Council. Tell them to peruse its contents without further delay!"

"Gandalf!?" the dwarf quacked in understandable bewilderment, "What are you doing?"

"Doing what we should have done sooner." Gandalf replied determinedly, and latched onto the path he wished to take without a further word. His eyes narrowed as a destination was decided from what little information he had.

 _Thanalan... Ul'dah!_

Promptly, without ado, he was drawn from Rivendell and hurled down the lonely path. A passage he traveled with such blinding swiftness that what starlight surrounded him turned to stripes of colorless brilliance. He left Middle-Earth's network far behind and for long moments was rendered all alone, a notion not helped by how the far-off light did not seem to get any closer.

Unfortunately the flicker ended momentarily, and Gandalf was left with the fear that he would tumble forward without end... until a network appeared before him that was far greater in scope than the one he left behind. A sight that left him speechless with relief, enough so that he upon his arrival unceremiously stumbled and fell into a clumsy heap on a floor laid with almost resplendent tiles of stone, right amid a crowd that upon his less than elegant entry scattered.

Some of whom muttered about the surprise of it while others expressed concern but were quickly discouraged from attempting to approach.

Not the most pleasant of welcomes. Gandalf nevertheless persevered and pushed himself back on his feet, brushed errant dust from his old robe and finally with staff clutched in hand took a moment to take in his surroundings. What he had found himself in was a large circular room complete with a domed ceiling. A finely made hall of stone dwarves wouldn't had felt out of place inside of.

And then there's the people.

Gandalf at first thought it odd for there to be so many children here, before it occurred to him that most of the males sported neatly trimmed moustaches. One of them complete with a female companion who held an even smaller being in her arms, bundled up like an infant. A discovery that flew in the face of his initial assessment and confirmed that, indeed, he had found a race even more diminutive than hobbits.

What a surprise.

Among the other beings he spotted a couple of miqo'te. Both of them female.

One of them narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, and he averted his gaze. Gandalf decided to not delay any longer and ascended the sole path out of this space, and emerged into a populous street that stretched in either direction, framed by massive walls of stone and architecture that while not overly alien in appearance featured architecture different from what he knew.

Gandalf tried not to gawk at everything around him as he walked among the locals, his mind racing as he contemplated on where to begin the search he was now committed to. Thoughts that boiled down to the simple matter of asking for direction when he spotted a nearby wandering guard dressed in chain mail and red cloth. "Excuse me." he approached the guard and addressed politely, "Do you have a moment?"

For a moment the guard, who was among the small folk, looked him up and down and replied hesitantly, "Of course, provided that you speak quickly."

"I am new in these parts, you see. Do you know of a good place to collect information?"

"Ah..." the small man nodded, "Given your appearance I assume you don't have quite the coins to afford a guide. So the only place left for you to go might as well be the Quicksand. The Adventurer's Guild."

"Where may I find it?"

"Over yonder, up those steps and to the left. There you'll find the Quicksand. Its Proprietress, Momodi, may well be open to questions should you have some for her."

"My thanks."

"Yeah yeah." the guard shrugged indifferently and moved along.

Gandalf echoed the motion and succinctly followed the directions given till he found himself in another circular space, if one larger and more comely than the last one. It had all the niceties of a pub... but was far removed from the types he usually found on his travels. Additionally it included some sort of booth on the far end, and an elongated counter. Following the dismissive guard's recommendation, he walked on to the bar which was tended to by a female of the small folk who hummed to herself till she noticed him. "Hoh, I do know a traveler when I see one. Welcome to the Quicksand. Would you like a drink?"

"Just information, thank you." Gandalf smiled as he took a seat, "Momodi, I presume?"

"Indeed I am." Momodi confirmed with a certain amount of cheer, "Just be aware that this is a city of merchants. Here, gil speaks. If you have coins to spend I'll to be happy to answer any question you might have."

Gandalf nodded in acceptance, and reached into the bag of coins that hung from his belt and retrieved from it a number of silver coins he promptly supplied onto the counter, "Will this do?"

"Let me see." Momodi picked the coins up and examined them briefly, "I don't recognize these marks."

"I have come from a distant place." Gandalf explained, "Distant enough that I have not seen your kind before this very day."

"Hoh." she pocketed the coins, "I suppose we can begin there. We are lalafell, and we pride ourselves on the cunning and nimbleness we use to more than compensate for our lack of, ahem, verticality."

"Most illuminating." he accepted the information. _l_ _alafell, huh..._ "What information I seek, however, is the whereabout of a particular person. An old acquaintance I have not seen in years."

"Can't help you much there... but I suppose you might end up lucky. Who is this person you're looking for?"

"A female miqo'te by name of H'anigi Tohl."

An expression of undeniable recognition appeared on Momodi's face, "You mean the author?"

"Author?"

"Yeah, she authored a popular children's book some twenty years past." Momodi looked at him, "How long ago did you last see her for you not to know that?"

"Forty years past." he said.

"That's a lot of time." Momodi whistled, folding her arms, "Well, it's a book called 'Hobbit Tale'. A riveting story about a journey to liberate a fallen Kingdom from a dragon that conquered it, followed by the dealing of an aftermath that developed into a terrible war. A tale of friendship, trust, and bravery in the face of impossible odds." she sighed, "First time going through the dragon parts, I could not help but shiver. Allegedly that was all based on a true story, but most have their doubts."

"How so?" Gandalf asked, amused.

"No one's ever heard of hobbits, dwarves, and such. And no one would have missed it if there were ever such a big kingdom-slaying dragon out there, Midgardsormr and Bahamut aside. But in any case the book was a huge hit immediately upon its release. I've heard it's especially famous in Ishgard."

"I see, and where may I find her?"

"Ain't no set location at present. She and some others have been traveling about the continent in recent weeks on some tour that has gone from one settlement to another. Just last week for instance they came here to Ul'dah."

"And now?"

"Given what we've learned; either in Gridania or Ishgard." Momodi supplied, thinking, "Personally I think it might be the latter. I got the distinct impression she dislikes Gridania."

"If memory serves of what she told onto me, she was once upon a time thrown out of it."

The red-haired lalafell piped up a curt giggle, "That explains it. Not a place friendly to foreigners, that."

"Which is not too dissimilar from some polities I am aware of."

"Said polities probably don't have elementals making those decisions, am I right?"

Gandalf put some thought to that, "I know not of these 'elementals', but you might just be right on that." and shrugged, "You're certain she's in Ishgard?"

"Fairly so. Either there or on her way thereto, in which case she'd very well be somewhere in Coerthas. Won't hurt to check the place out at least."

"Understood." Gandalf sighed as he stood to his full height, "My thanks, Ms. Momodi."

"You're most welcome, Mr..." Momodi started to bow then hummed, "Come to think of it, you haven't told me your name."

"Gandalf." he replied, "Gandalf the Grey, is my name."

Momodi simply stared up at him, "That's... the name of a character from the book."

Gandalf chuckled, "Let us just say there may be more truth to her tale than you know." and slowly turned, "Now I best be off. Farewell and thanks again, may your day be fair."

"Yeah..." she in her surprise breathed, almost rendered speechless, "Same to you."

Cheered yet deeming his business done here for at least the time being, Gandalf exited from the establishment and made a relative beeline back to its resident Aetheryte, surprised at how great a progress has been made in such short a time.

Now if only this luck holds up.

 _OoOoO_

Out in the world there are many kinds of sounds that can be considered universally unwelcome unless unleashed at more healthy an hour. For Miana Mia, a lalafell of the Plainsfolk, nothing annoyed her more at present than the overly loud chime of a bell being rung with a fervor and urgency that implied the ringer was caught between duty and a dire need of relieving himself. A terribly thing to happen after an all too short night of hard-fought sleep in what was probably the most unpleasant tent and patch of ground she's ever had the displeasure to rest at.

She hoped dearly someone out there would smack down whoever had the bright idea to produce this infernal racket so early in the morning. Unfortunately it persisted and soon she was forced to acknowledge it would not stop anytime soon and pulled herself out of the tent after a quick adjustment of her pilgrim robe and retrieval of her star globe and pointy hat.

With a yawn on her lips Miana watched a group of what she supposed are fellow adventurers strolled past and called to them, "Oi, any of you got any idea what's going on?"

"It's a call to arms!" one of the two elezen present called back to her, "All with a weapon and will to use it have been called to assemble!"

"A request for adventurers to gather? What for!?" Miana woke slightly as a hint of excitement stabbed at her.

They laughed at one another, making her blush in embarrassment, "If we knew, there'd be no need to assemble!"

 _Yeah, that was a stupid question..._ Miana resisted the temptation to palm her face. Instead she followed the somewhat steady flow of armed people on the old and surprisingly well-kept road toward the bell that continued to mercilessly tinkle on, and in so doing circled around the main structure of this settlement. Supposedly this was nothing but rubble a while ago. Given how well the place looked she was inclined to believe it.

Her attention fell away from the settlement soon enough, though, as she entered the big open area just past the Aetheryte and found herself at the edge of a sizable horde from all five great people of Eorzea, of all paths of battle and magic. The full size of this assembly, however, she could not ascertain given her nature. So the first thing she did upon arrival was ascend a flight of stairs and took position alongside other lalafell who had had the same idea.

"Have you heard?" a nearby Paladin whispered almost conspiratorily to his comrade, who shook her head, "They say the Warrior of Light's here too, somewhere."

 _The Warrior of Light..._ Miana thought to herself in awe, and looked out across the small sea of combatants. Like many others did, she became an adventurer due to being inspired by the many tales she heard about the Warrior of Light's exploits.

Alas, she had no more time to search before the bell chime stopped and a tall and dark-skinned roegadyn woman covered in white work clothes took up position on a large crate close to Slowfix's dwelling.

"Good morning!" she shouted, and what din had gone on prior died down as the attention of all present focused on her, "Apologies for pulling you out of your beds, but we got some real trouble brewing over in the Great Gubal Library."

"A whole mess of Illuminati have piled up there to conduct some form of business." the roegadyn female continued grimly, "After that whole debacle with that big hunk of steel you all know about by now, I am inclined to believe they shouldn't go about and do whatever they please. Particularly not in the greatest library on this continent!"

"Whoever would like to help root the bastards out, raise your hands!"

Simplistic a briefing really. Nevertheless, Miana raised her hand. As did nearly everyone present. No one wanted that steel monster back up and about again, and that was without counting the desire of many, herself included, to join a battle unquestionable in its righteousness.

"Good, good!" the female roegadyn called out in approval, "Let's do this safely, so form up in groups of four. We leave in twenty!"

The crowd roared, and started on their team-forming business – though many seemed to already be in teams. Miana was among those who did not have a team and went about to find one. Unfortunately it was an uphill business, given her status as something of a rookie. As a confirmation, nine minutes passed fruitlessly without a single team willing to take her in, and she was eventually forced to acknowledge that this battle was a no-go for her. Miana passed the edge of the congregation and sought to leave this opportunity behind when someone suddenly called for her with a booming voice. "Oi, you there! Do you have a team!?"

She glanced in its owner's direction with lack of ease, and found two men who focused on her. A massive Sea Wolf roagedyn with beige skin, a square jaw and carried beside a suit of jet black armor a huge axe the same size he is. The other was a midlander, lightly dressed in a white shirt, baggy blue pants, and an over-sized belt dressed in more gadgets than she could shake a stick at. A huge gun strapped to his back confirmed him as a machinist.

To be frank, Miana did not like men. Women are where it's at in her opinion, especially those with big bosoms. Still, with not even a mediocre set of choices available to her, she approached the two. "I do not, actually."

"Hah, thought so." the roegadyn said in a bombastic manner and slapped the other guy across the back, "See? Told you there are still supporters available."

"So there is..." the machinist coughed, undeniably annoyed, "Now we need one more. Could use a melee combatant."

"You mean someone like her?" the marauder folded his massive arms and shouted, "Hullo there, need a group?!"

"If she's a melee combatant." the midlander pressed as he turned, and his sole visible brow arced, "Oh," he added under his breath, "she'll do."

Miana also looked, this time with a marked increase of interest, and found a miqo'te upon the nearest set of stairs who by all indication had merely watched till the roegadyn called for her. _Oh my, she's a beauty..._

Brunettes are a gil a dozen, but this one's positively lovely. She wore on her shapely body an attire of mostly red and black composed of a flat cap, a sweater & sleeveless jacket of some absurd quality that came with a belt wrapped just underneath her chest, accentuating her ample bosom appreciably, if perhaps unintentionally. Past that she wore tantra arm-wraps, a skirt, and thigh-high fringe boots. Beside her choice of wear, she carried on her hips a pair of silvery Sphairai.

A monk in other words.

"If you would have me," the monk said evenly, "I'm not against joining yours."

"Great!" the roegadyn swept his arms wide, "We got a team, and a whole lot of buttocks to kick."

"Before that, I suggest we introduce ourselves." the Machinist rubbed his temples, "I'm Augustus Powell."

The roegadyn beat his chest with a fist, "Name's Still Water."

Miana nodded, "Miana Mia, I am."

"How about you, missy?" Still Water directed a big index finger at the miqo'te.

She smiled daintily, "H'aerindu Dhelh."

"Fine names. Nice to meet you all." he laughed louder than was probably wise, deafening the rest of them, "Next step; reap ourselves some glory!"

"Next step is to actually reach Gubal." Augustus drawled, "Look, everyone else are going for their mounts already."

"Fair point, Mr. A." Still Water boomed, slapping the poor midlander once again across the back before he reached for his chocobo whistle, "Let's do that too, and get there first!"

Whistles soon in hand, they issued a keening call for their respective birds, and were not the only ones. A hundred adventurers might not be a proper army, but it was still a pretty impressive sight when it gathered upon the white-clad roegadyn's call and as one stormed out Idyllshire's great gates and across the right-hand bridge, bound for their destination with steely determination.

And riding in its midst, Miana felt an almost indecent amount of glee.

 _OoOoO_

For a long time has Gandalf wondered about the city-state of Ishgard. A place H'anigi claimed to have withstood a centuries long siege by an army of dragons. A claim he grew to more readily believe with no more than his first impression of what he saw upon his exit from its resident Aetheryte; A fortress city compared to which even the likes of Minas Tirith paled, and rose so far from the valleys below that it dwarfed Orthanc completely. Combined with a formidable outer wall complete with countless battlements bristling with artillery emplacements, and the Wizard could be excused for considering this city-state nigh-impenetrable... and utterly so if not for the piles of rubble and damaged walls scattered about that stood as testament to recent battles.

Alas, while Gandalf felt a certain urge to sightsee in earnest, his self-imposed task took precedence. Fortunately the locals did not think much of him as he wandered from the Aetheryte and investigated the immediate district beyond it that among other things held within it a ranch filled with odd yellow to golden birds apparently used as mounts in lieu of horses, and a noisy factory.

Along the way, as Gandalf walked past the factory, he heard there's a pub nearby and wondered whether to try and see if its proprietor had his finger on the pulse of information like Momodi did.

The gossip of two nearby women made him immediately drop that thought: "Have you heard?" the one with raven-black hair asked, "I heard there's a recital of Hobbit Tales going on just past the Jeweled Crozier!"

"Is that so unusual?" her brown-maned friend shrugged.

"According to the rumors, the one doing the recital is the author herself."

"Really?"

"Pardon me," Gandalf interrupted them kindly, "would you happen to know where I may find the Jeweled Crozier?"

The raven-haired woman glanced his way, "You're looking to see the recital?"

"I do have some interest, yes."

"Well, you'll find the Jeweled Crozier if you take those stairs over there."

He nodded, "Thank you."

"A word of warning though, there are a lot of nobles up there. Even with the House of Commons in place it's not a place much frequented by commoners – with good reason."

The brunette agreed vigorously, "Yeah, slight the wrong noble and you'll not get away easily."

"I'll keep that in mind." Gandalf, not a stranger to such things, said in a weighted manner before he left for the broad set of stairs ahead and with nary a glance from the guards flanking it commenced a climb implied to be far but turned out to not be overly so as he before long surfaced into a market place lined with booths full of what must be fairly expensive goods, most of which he paid little attention to as he inconspicuously at a pace that ended every four steps with a pointed wooden click of his staff passed through.

The almost elf-like denizens of this city, however, did take notice of him – most of these being of the nobility judging by their lavish clothing, who threw him a few glares steeped in disapproval.

Gandalf ignored them without seeming facetious and plowed idly through as he looked for any sign of that recital, and found it finally when he arrived at a set of stairs on the far end of the Jeweled Crozier and heard something come from just past it. Curiously he climbed up and found ahead a thick crowd of mostly youngsters, some decked in expensive clothing while others wore formal uniforms. Adults stood with them too, but those Gandalf most found worthy of attention was the presence of several miqo'te, all of them cloaked and armed. Four of them carried bows on their backs, one with a shield and sword, and two with staffs.

Encouraged by this sight, he stepped closer and looked onto the center of attention... to find a single miqo'te female dressed in a thick black robe. According to Balin, H'anigi was twenty-eight at the time of their adventure, meaning she must be sixty-eight now. Still, in spite of the many years that have since passed since their last meeting... he found her eminently recognizable although her face had turned more drawn and her hair withered, having turned gray with age.

Gandalf was tempted to call out her name. Instead, not having the heart to interrupt the recital, he joined the crowd, listened, and watched.

A choice that carried them to its logical conclusion H'anigi eventually raised her gaze that still flashed as strongly as ever from the book to look over those present, and with a slight widening of those eyes spotted him among the adults. It was enough a surprise on her end that she momentarily paused – something her supposed guards were quick to notice, with the shield-bearer edging slightly closer as if to throw himself between her and whatever she stared at. The other onlookers, however, did not notice anything and took the startled pause for a dramatic one.

H'anigi maintained eye contact for a further second before she finally tore her gaze away and returned to the recital like nothing happened. Gandalf did not interrupt and calmly waited for it to finish.

 _OoOoO_

The Great Gubal Library. It's the greatest repository of tomes and arcane knowledge in all of Eorzea, built by the Sharlayans who later abandoned it because of the Garlean advance – after they put an inordinate number of spells, creatures, and other defenses in place to thwart potential looters, that is. Most of them likely dismantled if the presence of Illuminati was of any indication.

Miana mentally recited what little she knew of the place, though in large part because her only other option was to wildly panic and yell out as they raced through areas packed with all manner of aggressive wildlife, many of whom are big enough to swallow whichever lalafell they got their jaws on whole. Morbols, Sun Bears, and the like.

It could have actually been pretty tolerable if they were not the ones doing the ice breaking, but because of a certain idiot roegadyn who they had no choice but to try and keep up with; they've ended up on the raid's leading edge. As a consequence, the four of them became the center of attention of what was essentially monster central. Still Water, the fool, just laughed as he plowed through what got in their way while Augustus continuously hurled colorful obscenities at him for his boundless recklessness. H'aerindu, in response to the ongoing antics, merely smirked.

"This is funny to you?!" Miana borderline yelled at her.

The buxom monk shrugged, "Well, to me this an agreeable change of pace."

"Agreeable?"

"I've seen worse."

Ahead of them, Still Water still loudly went at it, the volume of his laughter gaining as he kicked monsters aside. He was too loud a Marauder for her liking.

"Worse?" Miana asked just in time for them to veer from the road altogether and dash right into the shallow waters of the Quickspill Delta, "Hey, why are we going this way?!"

"Archway's broken." H'aerindu informed steadily and without worry, "We got to access the Path of Knowing from another entry point. Meaning... this route. Mind the Okeanis, and the Cockatrice, the Sun Leeches... and don't even get me started on those Poroggo."

Miana had in mind to ask, but was too busy making her bird jump to the left as what she supposed was a Sun Leech tried to leap at her. "Yeek, gross things are gross! Gross!"

So icky those things were that when they transitioned onto an expanse of grass she let out a sigh of relief. "No time to relax." the Monk interrupted her, "Plenty of Cockatrices tend to pile up here."

She wasn't kidding.

Miana zoned out most of the horror experienced on that trail. Or she downright deleted that particular memory from her mind through sheer force of will the very instant they made their final approach to the stairs that led up to the Path of Knowing, and noted nervously how narrow it was.

Tightly she held the reins and guided her chocobo through it. Up. Right. Left. Left. Right.

She paid no attention to the dozens who followed in their wake, and focused only on the path forward till they entered the bridge proper and could finally see the Gubal Library. "Almost there!" Still Water bellowed as they continued their charge – else they'd have been overrun by those who came up behind, "And it looks like we got enemies ahead already!"

"Enemies?" Miana squinted at they left the bridge, and spotted a few goblins who guarded the library entrance, and seemed more than ready to fight, until the number of approaching adventurers in sight grew beyond a mere four and exploded into the dozens. A sight that made the creatures change their mind very quickly. They fled into the library and closed its doors behind them.

Still Water did not let himself be deterred, and once close enough threw himself from his chocobo with a triumphant guffaw and, axe in hand, used the combination of his armor, mass, and momentum to smash his way through the door.

"Well, he did want us to be first..." the machinist sighed resignedly at the resulting death-screams of whatever the roegadyn proceeded to lay low, and dismounted.

"So he did..." Miana groaned and followed suit, "H'aerindu, what do you..." and noticed belatedly that her miqo'te companion's chocobo was riderless. In the time she and Augustus exchanged words the Monk had already moved in. It prompted her to hoist her precious star globe and make her way inside in frenzied haste, "Oh, dung-kettles."

Inside, she found carnage aplenty, slated to get exponentially further chaotic as the other parties arrived in waves. Miana ignored most of it for the moment and focused on her teammates as she gained in power, intent on quickly lavish them in protective magics first and foremost, as was her job.

 _We're in business..._

 _OoOoO_

Soon enough H'anigi called for a respite as she finished with the Mirkwood segment of her book, her gaze fixed once again upon Gandalf who approached as the children and their parents scattered. "H'anigi Tohl. It has been many years since last we met." he greeted with a tip of his pointed hat.

"Forty years." the aged miqo'te replied slowly as she scrutinized him more closely, "By the Twelve you haven't aged a day."

Gandalf smiled, "I am not liable to brag, but I am no mere man."

"You make an ugly woman, Gandalf." she replied mirthfully, surprising her guards who had closed ranks around them.

"Mother..." the male armed with sword and shield addressed her in confusion, "Who is this person?"

H'anigi provided him a pointed look, "He is Gandalf the Grey, H'fhili."

"… You're serious?"

"I told you when you were young, boy." she said firmly, "My tale was never a mere figment of my imagination."

Surprised whispers passed between the other guards at this. Gandalf smiled amusedly, "H'fhili?" The name was much too similar to the late Fili's for it to be a mere coincidence.

H'anigi's lips crinkled into a grin, "My first son, H'fhili Tia." she pointed to one of the two with staffs next, "And my second son, H'khili Tia. I wanted to have a third son and name him after Thorin, but for lack of one I ended up naming one of my daughters H'thorina instead when it turned likely I could have no further litters."

"Oh my." Gandalf clucked mirthfully.

"These forty years have been really good to me, Gandalf." H'anigi sighed, "The fewness of those who chose to believe in my story was by and large the only downside, as you just amply witnessed."

H'fhili grimaced a little.

"Suppose it was inevitable." she continued in a low tone, "I had only words to my claims and no intellectual bothered to even listen, given my lack of credentials to begin with."

"Had we come through earlier and provided a conclusive argument you would have suffered less a trouble in that regard." Gandalf said mildly, tipping his pointed hat slightly forward, "Still, I believe there was no need to go through such trouble to begin with."

H'anigi tipped her head, "You're right. It ultimately turned out well, though. Popular as the tale became I got a rather big boost to my family and clan's income."

"All that ends well, ends well, or so they say." he said, "I am glad to see you so well, H'anigi. Your old comrades will doubtlessly be similarly delighted."

The aging miqo'te gazed to the sky, thoughtful, "Ah, Bilbo and the others. Would you tell me of how they're doing?"

Gandalf complied.

 _OoOoO_

With a hundred adventurers at her back it did not take long at all to clear the lobby of enemy forces and move further in. Miana watched the countless shelves they passed while doing so with barely restrained fascination, every inch of them covered in old tomes protected now only by a thin film of magicks and her fellow adventurer's lack of interest in anything but finding out where the rest of them Illuminati are holed up.

And because of this uncertainty it did not take long for the hastily assembled army to gradually disperse as the various four-person teams decided to take different routes.

It continued to the point that Miana found her team to be quite alone, and occasionally in the stillness heard distant echoes of altercations taking place, none of which indicated what was being fought. Some unfortunate group might have sprung a trap and summoned a batch of voidsent for all she knew. "So, where are we going?" Still Water interrupted her rumination as they stepped onto yet another platform.

"I have no idea." Augustus admitted bluntly, "H'aerindu seem to know the place, so I'm simply following her."

"You've been here before, Ms. Dhelh?" Miana asked of the Miqo'te who walked to the platform's opposite edge and summoned for them yet another set of stairs to follow.

"Twice." the Monk informed thoughtfully, "Been here on different errands."

The marauder hummed as he and the rest of them followed her across it to the next room, "So you got a lead on where those Illuminati might be?"

She scratched her chin absently, "Just a hunch. A feeling that they might be in the forbidden section."

"Any particular reason why you think that?"

"The name of it should be self-explanatory."

"Pardon, but you _could_ have told us that earlier." Miana argued pointedly, "We'd have convinced the rest to join us."

"There's always a possibility that the Illuminati don't know of it and are holed up elsewhere, in which case our comrades just might come across them."

Augustus nodded, "A sound argument. I agree."

Hesitantly, Miana accepted it too.

"Hmpf." Still Water had a few choice words for that, but everyone ignored him.

Instead they focused on the path laid out and in silence crossed several halls, each more elaborate - and messy - than the last. Occasionally some distant clamor reached them, but otherwise the only sounds produced were those of their own footsteps. Miana was bothered by this deep quiet, and almost began to wish that something would jump from around any of the corners ahead until they crossed into a large chamber that appeared to be dedicated to astrology and astromancy, complete with a downward passage at the far end. Unlike each one before, this particular one was intensely simplistic in design. Miana could tell it was the entrance to this 'Forbidden Section' H'aerindu referred to earlier. "Are you sure we got to enter?" she asked.

"Every nook and cranny counts." H'aerindu nonchalantly replied as she grabbed onto her Sphairai and started on the foreboding stairs to wherever this passage led. "It's better to make sure. Just be quiet."

The midlander did not hesitate at all, and followed her without a word. Miana and Still Water exchanged a thankfully brief look before he shrugged. They brought their weapons forth and joined them into a chamber far darker and foreboding than any that preceded it. Miana felt a chill as she surveyed the architecture, and was unnerved by how different it felt. An atmosphere not helped by the tomes here that pulsed a bloody red as if each one held a demonic creature fighting to get out. She was inclined to release an eminently frightened gasp that was only stifled by a warning glare from Augustus who ahead of them crouched alongside H'aerindu by the unnecessarily spiky safety fence. Neither mentioned as to why, but their glancing at the floor below was most telling.

What the lalafell found below as she walked up to the fence was a platoon or company strength assembly of beastmen split into two separate groups, the closer one made up wholly of goblins completely decked in armor and various gadgets who gazed coldly upon the other group with a sort of rigid discipline the likes of which she would ordinarily not credit these quirky beastmen with. As to the other group... Miana found no words.

These beastmen she did not recognize at all. The creatures were covered in filth, crude armor, and savage weaponry. When they spoke it was in a guttural tone, their words a seeping black that seemed to reach into her veins and chill the blood to ice. Whatever these creatures are, they have no place here... or anywhere else. It was a crude thing to consider, but every fiber of her being recoiled at the sight of them.

She whispered, more to H'aerindu than anyone else, "W-what are those... things over there?"

"No clue." the Monk said with surprising plainness, though there was a hint of frigid undertone, "Looks like the Illuminati came here to conduct business with them."

"You're sure?" Still Water whispered tersely, "I've seen more joy at funerals."

"If I were to guess, these must be the guard details. Their leaders, whoever they are, must be deliberating in the vault over yonder."

Augustus inclined his head, "I suppose this is where we ought to turn back and call for backup?"

"I don't mind." H'aerindu turned her head to the side, eyes narrowing, "Don't know about him."

"Him—?" Augustus began, and turned to Still Water just in time to see him shout a booming challenge – startling the beastmen below – and vault off the fence, grinning like a madman. "Oh... _him_ , that fool!" he slammed his head to the fence as if contemplating suicide by spike and ground out in a mixture of despondence and exasperation. "You Twelves-damned, asinine, idiot!"

Had Miana the time she would have conjured the means for him to land safely. But he was already in free fall... albeit with a choice of landing spot a damn sight better than the alternative: An unfortunate pair of goblins about to experience a roegadyn-scale body-press. Mindful of a sanity she wanted to keep relatively intact, she plugged her ears just in time for the resulting crunch.

A guffaw was all she needed to know he was fine when she let herself hear again. "I'm a little tempted to just leave him there." Miana confessed.

"I know the feeling." Augustus growled.

"A line of thought I'd prefer you keep to yourselves. Besides," H'aerindu said and abruptly wrapped an arm around Miana and hoist her along as she threw herself at Augustus, forcefully moving them all away from the passage just in time for something huge to hit the place they used to be in, "I believe that ship has sailed!"

At first when the lalafell was freed to turn about and see whatever just tried to smash them flat, she was immediately made to think it was a goobbue. What greeted her instead was a more monstrous creature with pillar-like legs and powerful arms; one of which held on to a huge hammer almost larger than all three of them put together. Yet another creature Miana knew nothing about, complete with the same sense of wrongness as that of the beastmen below.

"To the stairs." H'aerindu advised, and they all ran like a behemoth's snapping at their heels.

It roared at them and followed, the hammer raised high.

They completed all three bends in short order and dashed down the stairs to join an ongoing battle that struck Miana now as preferable to facing that monster behind them. Still Water was doing well considering the circumstances, if only because he with several opponents broken in his wake had brought himself into the Goblin ranks where the usually crafty beastmen could not easily use their guns.

Speaking of guns, Augustus whipped out his and blasted both the helmet and face from one of the two dozen or so beastmen that decided to charge at them rather than lend aid against the roegadyn. As for H'aerindu, the unknowns laughed and jeered at her choice of weapons. No one laughed any further, though, when she nimbly dodged the swing of a curved blade and delivered a short straight-punch to its owner's gut with such force that it was actually launched off its feet, and into the creature behind it, and sent both them and most of the rest tumbling down the stairs.

With barely a break in their pace, they raced over the awkwardly piled beastmen who – aside from those with broken ribs and limbs – fought to rise again. A lit grenade dropped by Augustus during their run put an end to some parts of this effort in a storm of fire and shrapnel.

After that, given the extra space, Miana separated herself from the group and hurried to a safe distance as every standing beastman converged on her comrades. She brought up her tarot cards and her star globe, and gleamed at their individual fates as they fought – though she could see no further ahead than a few seconds. Still Water crushed every opponent who got his fullest attention, but his defense was put to he test when one of the goblins mobilized a Vangob and struck upon him. Miana divined the most favorable of many possible outcomes in his fight and drew a card that represented the Bole. Using this she blessed upon him the endurance to weather the walking machine's heavy blows. Augustus needed no help at present as his back was covered by a newly deployed turret, allowing him to pick off all the sharpshooters he could see. H'aerindu needed no help either as she continued to shatter armor and break bones with in a show of strength wholly incongruous to her nubile frame. Still, Miana went the length to bless her with the power of the Arrow, boosting her already tremendous speed.

However, in her eagerness to help... she overlooked the monster upstairs in all things except through a sharp change of focus on the Monk's part until it jumped off the stairs and landed not many of its humongous steps away from her. Its maliciously beady eyes fixed on her comparatively minuscule frame.

Miana froze, scared stiff as she watched the monster lifted its hammer with every intent to squash her flat. "H-help!" she just barely managed to force out.

It descended, and she became certain that her life was about to end.

Then, in the blink of an eye, H'aerindu suddenly stood over her. Somehow she had rushed all the way hereto from where she previously fought in the blink of an eye. The miqo'te offered her a grim smile that somehow reassured her in spite of what was now both of their predicament before she with a steely glint in her shining eyes, in a stance quickly taken, swiftly span, a single arm resolutely raised. Miana saw what happened next, but struggled to believe it actually happened. H'aerindu's proffered forearm, charged with great power, landed on the hammer's side and struck it far enough to the side that it crashed to the floor adjacent to them with no more than a few inches gap between them and it.

Numbly, from somewhere far away, Miana recognized that she rewinded time in the following lull to undo what light bruises were inflicted on H'aerindu's arm by the effort. The monster was likewise dumbstruck, uncomprehending disbelief written across every fiber of its ugly face. But… not done yet, H'aerindu rushed at it and threw a punch so fast it seemed to turn ablaze and in the ensuing impact imploded the monster's chest, turning the monster's currently attempted roar into a piteous blast of air and blood as it fell over. Once, the monster in its death throes attempted to reach for the monk with a vengeful hand before a final shudder was let loose and it went limp.

This loss resounded across the chamber and was not lost on the remaining beastmen, for no more than a horrified look did they throw at the downed beast before they in a state of wild panic wheeled about and fled for the vault.

"Oi..." wheezed an exhausted Still Water from aside the smoking vangob he eventually managed to hack down, "Tone it down a notch, missy. You're making me look weak!"

Augustus turned from the turret he was about to retrieve, his face all red, "Is that seriously the first thing you got to say after that harebrained bout of stupidity you threw yourself into?"

"Hey, we won didn't we?" the roegadyn shrugged.

Outraged by such callousness next to his buffoonery Miana was about to join in on berating the idiot when a chilly voice seeped from beyond the vault's door as it opened and revealed an additional crowd of beastmen beyond – centrally among them being an elaborately armored Goblin who threw back at them a sidelong glare of nervous defiance, and yet another unknown; this one a seemingly faceless creature both tall and austere, covered in a black cloak and a menacing suit of armor. "Who dares?" it hissed ghastly and with those sparse words, tone of dispassionate anger, and malevolent glare, instantly instilled a sort of naked terror into Miana's heart not even the now deceased creature had managed to. She assumed the stranger was a midlander judging by its build, but realized now as she looked into its invisible face that it's an Ashkin, one that brimmed with far greater power of darkness than any other she's ever seen.

"Uplanders." the assumed goblin ringleader next to it rumbled, rising in his terror, "Pshkohhh! She is here! The accursed interloper, the Chosen of the Light, stand among them!"

"Eh?" Miana started, her voice like a barely audible peep of unparalleled shock as her attention gravitated toward the only person that Goblin could have referred to by that statement. H'aerindu, her expression a stoic frown as she watched the congregation – or the vile Ashkin specifically as it came about and scrutinized her in turn. Miana's mouth hang open. While she has long heard of the Warrior of Light's exploits, her hometown that was way off the beaten path and had not been graced with the particular details of her identity. It was always 'her' and 'Warrior of Light'. Just one of many adventurers, Miana had thought she could at most only ever hope to catch eventual small glimpses of the legendary figure. That she would even be in the same team was completely unimaginable until now as she took in the events of this morning and experienced an emotional storm. "Ehhhhhhhhhhhhh?!"

 _OoOoO_

Finally, the recital was concluded for the day, and H'anigi with her retinue started on their way back to the inn at which they stayed. Gandalf being a declared guest gladly joined them, yet his heart weighed heavily. For not once has he managed to bring up to her the subject of the Ring given the auspiciousness of their long-awaited meeting in a location so far removed from anything he knew. Regardless of it's import, to break their thus far pleasant conversations so suddenly with unpleasant business appeared – to a point – tactless.

Therefore it was of great surprise to him when one of her two sons, H'khili, suddenly interrupted them, "All that is well and good, but I've been wondering. Reminiscing aside, you have just strolled onto a wholly different world and the first on your to-do list was to look for mom? Am I missing something?"

H'anigi proceeded to add to his astonishment, "Actually, I can imagine the reason why though I am reluctant to say so." and shot him a mischievous look that did not hide within itself a trace of suspiciousness, "You know of _it_ , don't you?"

"Indeed, I do." Gandalf responded in the affirmative. There was no reason to deny it.

She solemnly nodded, "I see... However, at this time I will speak no more of it."

"In all frankness, H'anigi, I must insist..."

"Not anywhere near Bilbo will I allow that thing to be brought, Gandalf." H'anigi cut him off sharply, with not a little steel born undoubtedly from a selfless brand of stubbornness, "Let it lie. If you wish to have the topic brought up I expect you to wait until the arrival of the person I'm presently expecting."

Gandalf expected some resistance from the get-go, and carried no ill will for her rejection. For the time being he would consent to her wishes, and prepare a strong case for when the time comes. Still, he was curious about whoever she appeared to have invited, "As you wish, but who is it you speak of?"

Her expression softened and she stared ahead, the answer a cryptic one, "A precious grandchild of mine who has grown to become far more than meets the eye."

* * *

 **Author notes:** Forty years sound like a rather sizable time-skip, but then again the original one between the Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings amounted to span of about sixty years.

The name of Miana Mia doesn't quite exactly follow the Lalafell naming convention, but there's a planned backstory justification for that. Speaking of OCs, I got more on the drawing board, though I haven't quite decided who among those made and yet to be made will be prominent beside H'aerindu and Miana.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Trespass**

* * *

A change of pace, that was what H'aerindu had called this venture.

Maybe it was the benefit of having ample backup for a change that allowed for such a remark to escape her. A backup all too absent now – barring the teammates spread across the chamber – as she stood atop the corpse of an unknown beast and from there gazed upon a mixed force of beastmen halfway made up of creatures she had no name for, and who are apparently led by a powerful ashkin.

This was no change of pace. Just business as usual.

"Thou..." the crown-bearing ashkin looked at her and spoke, its voice frigid and distant like it came from somewhere beyond the material world, "Aye... Thou must be the one the Ascians spoke of..."

It only took that single mention to make H'aerindu act. She narrowed her eyes, took a single step forward, reinforced her body with ample amounts of channeled aether, and settled into a low posture before she sprang forward. Immediately the goblins quailed and reared back while the unknown creatures who saw her fell the monster with a single punch looked to one another with uncertainty while those who didn't grew confused by the nervous tension.

Somewhere behind her, Miana cried out in alarm. A sound that grew distant as she rushed through the bulk of the beastmen in a heartbeat, fast enough that all of her they sensed in that time was the slipstream that followed in her wake. In a heartbeat H'aerindu crossed most of the distance, and used the remaining time to come to a screeching halt that brought her up to and within a couple fulms from the ashkin, who was either absurdly composed or expected nothing different as it regarded her evenly.

"And according to their words, to lofty claims made in thy name..." it hissed, "If these lands are to belong to my Master, thou can not be suffered to persist."

H'aerindu listened, but was already committed. So she spared not even a moment to reconsider her course of action as she took aim and threw a punch at its chest with her right arm. An attack quickly blocked for all her speed as the ashkin hoist a dagger from its side and used the broadest portion of its flat side to meet her Sphairai, and successfully brought her attack to a halt. But while the block succeeded, it arrested not enough of the pressure to stop the creatures behind it from being blown away.

"Does that make you a pawn?" she muttered humorlessly as they pushed against one another.

"S-still your tongue, she-cat!" a creature on her left interjected defiantly, though it wore a shocked expression and stayed out of arms' reach, "You stand before the Witch King of Angmar, the right hand of Lord Sauron!"

"Good to know." H'aerindu could not quite keep the sarcasm at bay.

A growl was issued by the ashkin as it withdrew the blade and redirected it to stab straight at her. However, that alone was by far the least to be worried about, for on its approach she sensed a dark energy seethe from it that made her tail droop reflexively. Something was seriously off about it.

H'aerindu frowned and hopped back so there came to be a good clearance between her and the leading edge. "That dagger is cursed." she hissed.

"Thy senses art keen." the Witch King rumbled in appraisal. "Thou'rt no halfwit, she-cat. I would cherish nothing more than see thee turned to a being of the dark, to see thee bend thy knee to the dark lord! But alas, we art without time." and snapped: "Soldiers of the Eye, stand to!"

Her ears twitched as hearty commotion blossomed far behind her. It was not hard to understand why as the creatures woke as if from a stupor and split into two groups. One that headed to the rear, haggard weapons drawn, while the few that remained formed ranks and converged on her – a few of whom blocked her from approaching the ashkin who alongside an honor guard and the goblins withdrew to the far end of the vault where a pair of Aethernet Shards were hurriedly uncovered.

"Summon thy forces and rendezvous by the morrow!"

The goblin ringleader acceded with a firm nod, and in the next instant they vanished through each their respective Aethernet Shard, their immediate followers close behind.

H'aerindu wanted to follow after them, and fast. She did not care about the Illuminati who were – aside from those who were involved in the Alexander incident – no more than a bad joke. The ashkin, however, warranted all of her attention. Whoever this 'Lord Sauron' was, he sounded not like some garden variety fiend – not with such a creature under his command.

Unfortunately, her first order of business was to do something about the encirclement that closed in on her. H'aerindu took a stance and observed them grimly, her every sense on alert, and stood still until the very first of her opponents made a move. It was not even properly disguised as an armored figure broke ranks and dashed at her.

H'aerindu heard the weapon come and ducked just far enough that it would not even graze her flat cap, then rose, leaned back, and shielded her left elbow with aether just before she rammed it into the opportunist's gut hard enough to see blood explode from its yellow-toothed mouth. Several more closed in as the first one fell, and she pumped a concentration of aether beneath the sole of her right boot, and released it all as she stomped the floor and shattered it for at least fifteen fulms around. Consequently each of the five who approached lost their balance. An abrupt disadvantage she made full use of as she launched a series of quick attacks. She brought her left fist across the head of her second opponent with every nonce required to snap its neck, smashed the third one's face in with a jab with her right, and withdrew both arms to subsequently collapse the chests of both her fourth and fifth opponents who came at her from straight ahead. As for the sixth it managed to recover, only to see its comrades already felled; let out a shriek of fear and rage intertwined, and launched itself at her with a mattock held high.

A sweeping turn and a knee to its windpipe put a stifling end to that.

H'aerindu took a single moment afterward to survey the encirclement while the mattock-wielding creature choked, and deemed it to be sufficiently reduced to allow an easy breakthrough. A chance the Miqo'te did not waste as she charged through the gap ahead and raced at a high pace for the relevant Aethernet Shard just as the last who followed the ashkin in its escape passed through.

But as she came within a few yalms of it, both of the Aethernet Shard burst apart in a controlled explosion.

At this destruction, the Monk halted and cursed softly, "Twelve forfend..."

Not even a moment passed before another of the new and savage beastmen launched itself at her. H'aerindu for a reaction holstered her Sphairai, and flexed her fingers as she sidestepped an oncoming blade, span around, and grabbed it by its sword arm and neck.

"You're going to tell me what you know, or I'll be taking my time."

Its most immediate response was to curse and howl between coughs, and used its only free arm to paw at her. For a response she tightened the grip round its fragile neck and with little effort hoist it off the floor.

"W-what are you?" the creature finally croaked in equal parts horror and abject disbelief.

H'aerindu glared, "I get that a lot."

 _OoOoO_

The battle has not even ended yet, but Miana was already bound for the vault. After H'aerindu suddenly dashed ahead of them, it had taken only a moment's hesitation for impromptu reinforcements to pop up from elsewhere – if only because of the clamor their fight produced was different from whatever went on elsewhere. That greatly helped to say the least. She could hear Still Water's raucous roars as he brought his axe through what he came across – including those he did not come across – while Augustus in every fashion possible went at it guns blazing.

It made for an intense fight, yet H'aerindu loomed at the forefront of her thoughts. She made her little contribution to the struggle, ran as fast as her short legs could carry her, and ignored the distinctly broken bodies littered on the floor along the way.

Miana arrived in the vault just in time to see H'aerindu stand there with another of the creatures at her feet, its frothing head tilted to an angle she highly suspected was not natural.

"Warrior of Light, are you hurt?!" she called out, "What's going on here?"

"Nothing's wrong." the Monk shrugged as she strode past while brushing errant dirt from her raised right forearm, "Their leaders got away, so I decided to question one of those given the task of slowing me down..."

She turned and followed "D-did you learn anything?"

"That their 'Master' intend to conquer this realm. Mix in however many epithets and insults comes to mind and you'll have a fair understanding on how our exchange went."

"Like we don't get enough of that from the Garleans."

The busty Miqo'te came to a slow stop, "Quite. That told, I have to take my leave now."

Miana blinked, surprised by how ill at ease she was rendered by this, "Er, already?"

"There are people I must bring this up to."

"You mean the Scions?"

"Among others, but yes."

"I see..." Miana sighed, "Um, could I ask just one more question before you go?"

"Sure."

"Well," she squirmed nervously, "I started on this adventuring path recently, in large part because I was inspired by your exploits. My question is... did I do good on this quest?"

H'aerindu after a moment of hesitation gave a small smile, "... Well, I suppose I have no complaints about you in terms of skill. You should, on the other hand, pay more attention to your surroundings."

"Y-yeah," she rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment, recalling what she referred to, "Had I been more attentive, you wouldn't have to go through such trouble."

"And it looks like Augustus got an injured arm." the Warrior of Light proceeded to point out, "You should see to that before it gets worse."

"Ack!" she winced at the level of neglect on her part. And it was certainly not her first, "Y-yeah... I'll get right on that. Thank you."

"No need to thank me, just go."

Miana nodded frantically, and hurriedly trundled past the Miqo'te who remained more or less in place, and in her hurry took several steps before she heard an odd sound and turned to ask the Warrior of Light about it, only to find H'aerindu entirely absent. An abrupt disappearance that momentarily confused the Lalafell till it occurred to her that she must have left through the use of a teleport or return spell. Additionally it made Miana's discomfort from earlier grow. It was not difficult to understand why.

She began her travels with a desire to experience grand adventures, and right now she suspected the Warrior of Light's poised to embark on a major one.

Maybe if she headed to Ishgard or Mor Dhona next... she could get involved in it. Miana felt determined to make a fair attempt of it at least, and with that hurried on to the injured Machinist who with a vocabulary to match was in equal parts relieved and exasperated at her. The triumphant Still Water on his part only guffawed.

 _OoOoO_

H'aerindu felt bad for departing without at least a farewell, but time was not a luxury for either of them. So once the Lalafell ran off, she closed her eyes and with effort tapped into the Aetherial Network that crisscrossed the continent and let herself be pulled to the Aetheryte her spirit resonated with the most; that of Revenant's Toll in Mor Dhona. Many people would probably consider it incongruous to so suddenly leave a corpse-strewn and bloodied battlefield and immediately afterwards enter a lively and peaceful plaza like someone just flipped a book page, but she from experience brushed it off easily enough.

Instead what she focused on and took solace in was the peaceful hubbub of a town that on a whole was untroubled and undeniably peaceful. The warmth brought by the change of climate was also quite welcome.

She savored the view, and breathed in and out a few times to recover from what strain came from the effort of coming here before she made way for the Seventh Heaven, beyond which the Rising Stones was nestled.

"Excuse me, could I have a little bit of your time?"

"Of course." H'aerindu stopped as a delivery Moogle interposed itself between herself and the entrance, "What is it?"

"I'm glad you asked, Kupo!" the Moogle panted its reply, its pom bouncing eagerly, "Just to confirm: You're Ms. H'aerindu Dhelh, correct?"

"Yes, I am."

"Wonderful." it reached into its comically large red bag and pulled from it a slightly orange envelope, "I have a letter for you, Kupo!"

"For me?" H'aerindu asked as she accepted the letter and flipped it over both left and right in a quick examination, finding it to be entirely blank, "Who dispatched it?"

"A secret admirer?" the Moogle said rhetorically, "I have no clue, Kupo."

"Well, thank you for delivering it in any case."

"Just doing my job, Kupo." it nodded its large head and flitted away, "Have a nice day, Kupo!"

"Same to you..." H'aerindu answered and cursed herself in distaste over how hollow her words sounded as she moved on to open the letter... and was overcome, momentarily, by nostalgia that quickly gave away for not a small amount of horror. It was from her dear grandma whose writing she has not seen since she left her hometown. Most people would have been happy in similar situations, but in her community it's an unwritten rule to not exchange letters in case the member on adventure gain enemies who given the chance would not hesitate to project their ire onto his or her relatives. That her most precious grandmother would so brazenly break this rule troubled her immensely.

She thus read the letter, eager to find there was little reason to worry beside that broken taboo. Instead her concern intensified.

"Grandma... you who said you would not leave our village again... why are you in Ishgard?"

 _And what's with this timing? Why now?_

H'aerindu stared at the letter for a little longer, then stuffed it back into the envelope with every intention to go visit her waiting grandma. Or soon enough, at least... for right now she needed to see Alphinaud. She nodded to herself in affirmation and entered the Rising Stones.

Therein, she found him by Tataru's desk deep in conversation with his sibling Alisaie while Tataru on her side busied herself with a stack of documents till she looked up, and being ever the observant one her glad expression turned to one of concern, "H'aerindu, what has happened?"

She sighed, "Nothing good, Tataru." and looked onto the siblings who were practically startled from their conversation by the sight of what must have been quite a severe expression on her own side. Alphinaud who was just a step short from becoming the leader of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and knew her better than his sister did from a more extensive association adopted a serious look. "Alphinaud, I need to speak with you about a battle that just took place in the great library of Gubal. It's important."

The youth's eyes hardened upon the mention, and he wasted no time on his usual formality, "Tell us everything, H'aerindu. Leave nothing out."

 _OoOoO_

"Sauron. Witch King. Angmar. I know none of these names."

Alphinaud was deeply troubled by the time H'aerindu finished her tale. After all that they've gone through, he honestly believed they had finally managed to catch a breather, only to discover that a wholly unknown force – apparently backed by the Ascians who just could not leave well enough alone – now threatened Eorzea, if not the entire world. And in order to help facilitate such an undertaking, they have formed an alliance with the Illuminati. Who knows what other beastmen tribes they must be making overtures to right this very moment.

"Neither do I." Alisaie had her arms folded hard and muttered in thought, "And on all the maps we know of... there is no location that go by the name of 'Angmar' – if it constitute a location at all."

"The world is a vast place." Alphinaud noted comfortlessly.

"Point is, we know not where to start our search for them."

"True, but we know at least one avenue through which they gather strength. If we warn the Eorzean Alliance and get them to strengthen surveillance on the beastman tribes that border them, we might come across something more tangible."

And that about summed up their differences in how to confront a given problem. Alisaie preferred to take a hammer and bludgeon it herself at once while his method was to get as many parties in on it as possible so they can bludgeon said problem together. While they have reconciled, their personal preferences did occasionally bleed through the veneer.

Alphinaud continued: "That said, before we move on with preparations... I can not help but notice that some other matter must be weighing on your mind, H'aerindu."

"It's that apparent, huh?" H'aerindu smiled cheerlessly and shrugged, "You need not concern yourself with that, for it is no more than a family matter."

"A family matter?" he parroted as his innate curiosity flared up. Never has her family come up in a conversation.

"Leave it be, Alphinaud." Alisaie interjected somewhat crassly, "If it's a private matter let it remain as such till she decide otherwise. Not every business need to be all of our concern."

"Point taken, Alisaie." Alphinaud sighed unhappily, "Let us move on, then. H'aerindu, once finished with your meal, would you head to Ishgard and inform Ser Aymeric?"

"Of course I can." the Warrior of Light evenly accepted as her attention fell back to what remained of the antelope steak. "Anything else?"

Alphinaud smiled, and looked to his sister who did likewise and inclined her head, "Go get some rest when you're done, my friend. We will notify the other leaders."

 _OoOoO_

Long ago, Mt. Gundabad was a dwarven stronghold. Now it's a known cesspit from which orcs boiled forth to rampage and pillage whenever a Chieftain of sufficient strength and infamy rose to unify them under a stirring vision of conquest and general carnage. A position held for all of the recent decades by Bolg, son of the late Azog. As such, though greatly depleted by the Battle of Erebor, they continued to send forth raids that would have devastated the denizens of the north if not for active efforts to counter and cull them, whether it be by forces such as the reestablished Dale and Erebor, already great and prosperous nations, or by hunters who worked either alone or in small groups.

Neither group would actually approach Gundabad, though. Particularly not within view of its fortress.

Therefore Legolas was by himself as he approached the mountain over rocky terrain while ever mindful of his surroundings that after hours of travel still put no sign of life on display. It's a godforsaken place where none of the free races would attempt to traverse without a good dose of self-confidence or madness.

It was good, then, that he was not without comrades who hold such qualities within themselves.

Legolas was as such pleased when he spotted a familiar deep brown horse partially hidden within a crevice, and climbed the hill just past it to find its owner who had not even bothered to seek cover. Instead the dark-haired man – as if he dared the orcs to come out and face him – sat and smoked pipe-weed in full view of the Gundabad fortress that lay just across an expanse of open ground, its massively angular dirt-brown visage framed by haggard cliffs.

The man glanced at him and greeted him in a mock tone of impatience, "Took you a while, Legolas."

"I chose to forego a mount this time," Legolas replied as he strode to stand next to him, "Aragorn."

"Call me Strider." the man still insisted, not annoyed in the least.

When he first set out after the Battle of Erebor, he followed his father's advice and sought out Aragorn who quickly became a close friend of his. Many times have they worked together, and found they did so splendidly. If there was a downside, it lay in the man's preference to use an alias over his real name.

"And what of your choice of hiding place?" the elf inquired, "You're better at concealment than I am, but not enough to hide in plain sight."

"I have sat here for the better part of the day, mellon." Aragorn said calmly, without alarm, "I have yet to spot a reaction. They do not consider me worthy of their attention, or their watchers don't bother to keep watch. Either way, as you told me; it's been awfully quiet."

Legolas nodded, "It has been like this for much of the past year. The number of raids sent forth have fallen to a mere pittance."

"Replete are the reasons why that could be. Loss of their highest leader, a crippling depletion of forces through battle, lack of supplies, or abandonment." Aragorn explained calculatingly, "And given the propagation of Aetherytes across Middle-Earth, the presence of one along with a reallocation of forces to more important fronts are as likely a reason for the latter as any."

"You paint a glum picture, Strider." Legolas said under his breath, just barely loud enough for his friend to hear.

"All of it no more than supposition. We can not know for sure ere we check it out for ourselves." Aragorn shrugged his shoulders and pushed himself up, "So how about it, mellon? Shall we go in and take a look?"

"You need not even ask." Legolas smiled, "My bow is yours."

"How comforting to have an elf-less bow at my back." Aragorn replied jokingly, and they exchanged a curt laugh, "Come, Lagro's able enough to carry the both of us."

And that Lagro was as they soon set off and through a westbound route traveled till the fortress was out of sight, and dismounted by the steep cliffs where Legolas provided on Aragorn suggestion a set of instructions to Lagro; to leave if they do not return ere the next sunrise, before they moved on.

Silently and with weapons drawn they traversed the distance, and all the while kept to the wall till they came across a narrow slope built to not be easily seen from a distance, and at its end found a rock face that most would not suspect to be a cleverly concealed entrance. "It would seem we won't come through this way." Aragorn observed as he rubbed his left palm across its rough surface in search for any vulnerability.

Legolas was about to agree when the door suddenly budged to an egregious chorus of chiseled rocks grinding against one another. A development that took them no more than a moment to react to as they took up position beside the door and waited for it to open and allow a smattering of lightly armored orcs to exit. Legolas waited till the last one stepped out, then he nocked an arrow and buried it deep into its skull. Its corpse went on to topple those in front, and rendered them easy prey for when Aragorn fell upon them, ran one through with his longsword, then in short order hewed down those that remained.

"It would seem their guards were not being negligent." Legolas darkly observed as the one-sided fight ended, "These must be scouts sent to make sure we left."

Aragorn nodded in agreement, "A leaderless horde would not have bothered with such discipline. Their leadership must still be intact."

"Bolg must still be here, then."

"It appears so."

Reasonably assured by this, they entered through the opening accidentally provided for them and made sure to close it before they quietly continued onward, their lone and narrow path sparsely illuminated by torches scattered along the walls till they came upon what seemed like a checkpoint, or guard room. A heavily armored orc spotted them and rushed to a lever where it limply collapsed as Legolas sent an arrow through its neck.

A second orc tried to carry out what the first failed to do, but he felled it too in short order.

Legolas nocked a third one in case another orc showed itself as they crossed a inches wide depression, the receptacle of a heavy wood and iron door the lever was meant to drop in their path. A quick scan of the chamber revealed no additional hostiles lurked within.

"Looks like we are in the clear." Aragorn whispered as he knelt by a corpse, gaze alert.

He nodded and lowered the bow, "Indeed."

"It's only going to get harder from here, though, Legolas. Fortunately _this_ should let us move around a little easier."

"What do you-?" Legolas started to ask and just barely caught the orc helmet Aragorn suddenly threw at him. Comprehension dawned, "You certainly cannot mean to..."

"Yes and we will." Aragorn told him seriously, "It's one of the oldest tricks in the book, yet has proven itself time and time again."

Not a single fiber of his being liked it at all, but soon enough they moved on... fully clad in orcish gear that smelled like it may have been washed exactly once back in the First Age and the orc responsible for it decided that would have to be enough. A large portion of his soul hoped it would not stick, for his father would probably not be very understanding.

Still, it worked like a charm – a very odorous one. With their identities well concealed by the heavy armor they now sported, none of the orcs they passed suspected anything. This allowed them to soon find the mountain's ancient city that has long since lost what splendor it might once have possessed from millenia of neglect, and defilement. So ruined in fact that the orcs no doubt must have taken out their frustration on the ancient dwarven architecture whenever dwarves happened to slight them in whatever way.

Neither of them knew where to go, though, so much of their search wound up wildly random. Legolas was at a loss himself, and was about to comment on it when they came upon a massive chamber, and found in its center an Aetheryte that stood pristine amid all the grime, surrounded by an extensive work force that hauled crates and supplies. "We have found the Aetheryte at least," Aragorn's tone was soft, "but is abandonment in progress... or is it not?"

"Only one way to find out." Legolas frowned mingled into the crowd through which they approached the crystal, all the while trying not to make themselves overly conspicuous to whoever watched. Many of the orcs chattered among themselves meanwhile, their conversations made up either of complaints about their menial tasks, or the sort of topics he cared not to recall at any length.

It was here, a while after they took up position a short distance from the Aetheryte that a short orc materialized next to it and loped to a tall and brutish orc who had till now admonished a bunch of workers for being sloppy – after it beheaded one to make a point.

"I bring missive for Chieftain Bolg!" it borderline yelled, "Where is he to be found?"

The brutish orc gave a snort; "Not here, maggot! Through the Crystal, to the New World, to the Sky Base!"

After a glare that seemed par for the course, the runner returned to the crystal and vanished a moment later.

"The New World." Aragorn quietly wondered, "Could he have meant that other world?"

"I cannot think of any other possibility." Legolas bit his lower lip nervously, "Still, if Bolg can be found there... that's where I'll go, no matter what the rumors say."

Aragorn nodded grimly, "Then so shall I."

Legolas whispered his gratitude and went ahead to the Aetheryte, and raised his hand with his destination clear in mind:

 _Hydaelyn... Sky Base..._

An instant later the consciousness dimmed to nearly a lack of awareness, and he dreamed of starlight that zipped past him for a span of time that ended only as he was thrust back into physical form and stumbled into the light of day. Aragorn arrived next, but Legolas' attention lay on a vista that was equally wondrous and disheartening. They stood in a clearing surrounded by a lush and beautiful forest that was tainted by lines of crude tents and a horde of orcs that milled dutifully about. Legolas felt the smell of green, but found it too faint for it to lend him any joy.

All that protected these trees from being felled was the protection they offered against daylight.

"So far, it looks not much different from Middle-Earth." Aragorn mused as he led them on in a largely random direction. A path that brought them across a site where a local animal that in appearance was akin to a giant marmot was being slaughtered.

Even worse, it was still alive.

Legolas wanted to put it out of its misery, but could do not a thing except to move on else risk what they came here for. "Does that not seem suspicious?" Aragorn whispered suddenly.

"Whatever do you..." he started to ask, following his friend's eyes till he found a tent that stood away from the rest, seated amid a clutch of trees, its entrance guarded by a lone orc. "It does." he affirmed.

A plan of action was made and they started it the very instant no one looked.

Legolas approached the guard while its attention was elsewhere, and in a single deft move stabbed a knife horizontally through its neck. It did not even get to gasp before what passed for life left it, and allowed him to withdraw the blade and place the dead orc in a seated position. Aragorn promptly took up position by the entrance and brushed it open for him. Because of the tent's placement and its guard, he was given to believe it was the home of an orc passably high in rank, someone they could extract information from; such as the location of Bolg. But what he actually found upon his entrance... was definitely no orc.

Instead, seated before him was a petitely built woman whose skin was pale, her eyes vividly pink, her hair a long mane black as night. She also sported beautifully patterned scales on various parts of her body, including the sides of her face – the latter which culminated into a pair of angular horns swept backward. There was also a lizard-like tail that extended from her posterior.

Legolas from the sight of such a being now recognized in full that they are now in a different world.

"W-what now?" she defiantly snarled, her tone slurring, "Have you come to kill me?"

"Nay..." Legolas shook his head after a moment of hesitation as he took to a knee and slowly removed his helmet, "My comrade and I have not."

She stilled at the sight of him, and stared with those unique eyes of hers as if to blink but once would make him disappear. "D-did the a-authorities send you?"

Gently he shook his head, "That we have happened upon you can only be attributed to fate itself. We expected to find an orc leader, not a captive."

"I see..." the girl stuttered, "Despite that... will you help me?"

"We did not come here to save, and our escape options are limited." Legolas confessed as he inched close and got to work on the shackle round her neck with a knife he pulled out, "Can you fight?"

"I'm a Ninja." she said, "Lend me some knives or daggers and I'll do my part."

That did not tell him overly much, but her weapon of choice would be simple enough to supply. "How did they capture you?" he asked bluntly, and smiled in triumph when the shackle gave away and fell off of her.

"Not from lack of skill on my part." she sighed in relief while rubbing her liberated throat where it was sore, "I got swamped by a whole slew of them griffin riders while I hunted for some beast whose hide I needed."

Legolas arced a brow, "Griffins?"

"You've never seen one before? Those brutes out there have broken in hundreds of the damned things, along with dozens of monstrous Cetus. Neither are of the sort of beasts you'd like to be caught flat-footed by."

His expression darkened, "An army to fill the sky."

"Heard from my jailers that the target's Ishgard. Bugger me if I know why."

"A city is it?"

She blinked, "You do not know of even that!?"

Legolas frowned, "We can explain why, but it will have to wait for now. What's your name?"

"Dagasi Tamao." she informed, "And you?"

"I am Legolas Greenleaf, and my friend outside..."

"You can call me Strider." Aragorn crisply said as he opened the entrance and tossed to Dagasi a full suit and helmet he obviously liberated from the deceased guard. "Get dressed and fast."

"S-sure..." Dagasi stuttered, and winced as she took in the clothes' foul scent.

"And while we are in the business of lending you things..." Legolas pulled out his other knife and laid both next to the garments, "These knives are of Mirkwood make and should serve you well."

She nodded nervously, but it showed not at all when she critically picked one up and weighed it expertly in her left hand. "Thank you. I will treat them with care."

Fairly he accepted her words, "Good, come out when you are ready." and after he put his helmet back on exited the tent, and came to stand beside his friend who smiled some.

"Not what we expected, but this is certainly something." Aragorn remarked while they stood guard and listened to Dagasi putting on the provided clothes, and softly cursing at the stench while at it, "We went a lot further than was the plan, but I have a feeling our chances to see this through just improved."

 _OoOoO_

In retrospect it was for the best that her task was only to alert Ser Aymeric. Not because she needed rest as Alphinaud probably assumed, but because Ser Aymeric upon her arrival in Ishgard was in the middle of an assembly. Which was why she now sat within his estate, complete with a forth meal on her lap after hours of wait. H'aerindu sighed pleasantly and placed her left hand's index and middle fingers on her neck as she pulled down a hefty helping of Rabbit Pie, and savored every little second of its descent. "Mm~ Delicious~"

The cook who was sent to service her on Ser Aymeric's behalf in a rather blunt gesture of affection bowed his head and fought to keep a suitably adorable luminescent blush at bay in the face of what was likely more a sensual display than he was used to, "You honor me..."

Having finished what was left of the dish in that gulp, she handed over the platter, "Thank for the food." and leaned against the backrest in ample satisfaction. A part of her wanted to sleep off the meal right there, but it was out of the question. Especially when Ser Aymeric and his second in command, Lucia, finally came and made a beeline for her.

"My apology for the long wait, H'aerindu." Ser Aymeric made a sweeping bow, "I pray you were not overly inconvenienced."

H'aerindu gracefully stood and gazed up at him, "You don't need to apologize, Ser Aymeric, for it was bearable enough – in part thanks to your cook."

Ser Aymeric was pleased, slightly embarrassed but pleased nonetheless, "I am glad you found the wait passable. Now let us not delay any further and dispense with formality. You came with a message, correct?"

"I did." Haerindu said, and she laid its contents out to him.

When she finished, Ser Aymeric nodded, "That is very serious indeed. Lucia, go and see to it that our outposts are made suitably alert."

Lucia resolutely saluted, "I shall see to it immediately. No invader shall trespass without our knowledge." and hurried on ahead.

"Excepting the Ixcal, there is little we can do in regard to surveillance when it comes to our beastmen neighbors. I am reasonably sure at least that not a single Moogle would even think to join with such a force."

"Having worked closely with them on many occasions, I agree." H'aerindu said, every word held up with a certain confidence. "I can't say the same for the Vundu tribe and the Gnath, however."

Ser Aymeric nodded, "Even so, we will do what is within our power. Now before I go, is there aught else you need to speak of?"

She hung her head, "Twice today have people read me like an open book, but yes; I'm looking for someone who's currently staying here. She requested for my presence via letter but did not tell of which place she chose to stay at."

"I suppose this woman in question is a person of some repute?"

"Aye, her name's H'anigi Tohl."

"Ah, in that case I am well within my ability to assist as I was the one to welcome and help in the providing of accommodation." Ser Aymeric strode past her, all chipper-like, "Come right this way."

She nodded and followed him out, down the street, and down the stairs beyond to reach the Foundation where she got a niggling feeling of where this was headed.

"You let her stay at the Forgotten Knight?"

"She was most insistent."

"Of course she was. Frugal to the last."

"You do seem quite familiar with her."

"More so than you may think." H'aerindu sighed and gradually took the lead as they entered the establishment and approached the stairs from where she gazed across the tables and one surrounded by Miqo'te, a couple of seats occupied by uncles of hers, and another by a very old man who wore a pointed hat, a long grey cloak, and who currently rested a wooden staff against his left shoulder. She, however, was far more interested in the graying woman who sat with her back turned till uncle H'khili pointed her out.

Without delay, her grandma turned to gaze back up at her with eyes that turned quickly tearful from joy. H'aerindu reciprocated in turn as she, dimly aware that Ser Aymeric was still with her, walked down and walked into a curt but heartfelt embrace with her.

"Long time no see," her grandmother greeted softly, and released her, "my dear granddaughter."

"Grandma… I…" she breathed as she fought to compose herself before the older relative, "It's not that I don't appreciate this, I do, but you broke a taboo and left the village though you once said you wouldn't. Why?"

"Straight to business, huh. I understand your confusion and distress, my dear, but I needed to speak with you about something important that can not wait for much longer." her grandma somberly said as she gently rubbed a callused hand up and down H'aerindu's mostly bare left arm, "But before we go there, I must impart some context..."

It was then that the old man whose seat neighbored her grandma's chose to stand up, and quickly came to tower over both of them as he removed his pointy hat and turned to them. "H'anigi, if I may." he politely smiled, "I believe an introduction is in order, and that it may well progress matters more favorably."

"Hoh..." H'anigi folded her arms and smirked in response, "I was going to let that be a surprise, but fine, go for it."

The old man gave an amused huff and approached, staff in hand, "I have heard much about you, H'aerindu, daughter of Dhelh – your grandmother can hardly let a moment go by without passing on further tales of your exploits, each more fantastical than the last."

"Most of which, I assure you, are true." the Lord Commander decided suddenly to get involved as if to defend her honor, which she privately thought of as unnecessary, and not a little embarrassing. "I could go on about her deeds for days and nights and still fail to overstate her contributions to all of Eorzea."

"Ser Aymeric, please." H'aerindu softly pleaded, her face so red it matched the shade of her clothes. She could easily handle hostility and pain and madmen screaming bloody murder at every turn, but lavish praise was a thing she had no idea how to deal with. All she could do most of the time was to shyly nod, "I'm just doing what I can to help."

"Modest, aren't you?" the old man laughed, only it sounded like he approved. "Every bit as hard working and virtuous as your grandmother claimed."

H'anigi nodded proudly, and addressed her bearded apparent friend, "She has gained an air of world-weariness about her since last we saw one another, but those qualities remain close to her heart I have no doubt."

"Aw, enough about that already." H'aerindu all but snapped in interjection, eager to get this moving along before it gets too awkward. She glared at the old man, "You, to an effect, claimed your introduction would do better to impart context than whatever grandma wanted to say. Who are you for that to be the case?"

The old man beamed at her, "Who?" he chuckled, "I am Olórin, I am Mithrandir, Incánus, Tharkûn. Not to mention a couple of less reputable ones such as Stormcrow – something to do with my tendency of being a bearer of poor news."

"Are you taking the piss, old man?" the Forgotten Knight's Proprietor, Gibrillont, loudly exclaimed from behind the place's counter, having obviously listened in. Words that nevertheless perfectly mirrored H'aerindus's own baffled thoughts.

"Some even refer to me as Pointy Hat, like my hat encapsulated all of my being." he continued as if the outburst did not happen, and very visibly had fun doing this, "But more than anything else, I am grey, and grey am I. Consequently my name, the only one I suppose you need to take to mind and recall, is Gandalf the Grey."

* * *

 **Author notes:** Ah, this was a toughie to write.

As for an answer to comments:

Greyjedi449t: Thank you!

Wolfund: Long distance travel in Middle-Earth has gotten much faster, but it took many years of progress to get this far, plus they don't have the return spell and they do not have the teleport spell. Also, far as I know, Aetherytes do not have a Google app.

Reishin Amara: Thanks. Can't really comment on those ideas, though. Got a lot of ideas myself that I don't have time to set up without coming up with even more.

Merlinius Ambrosius: Thank you!

Kairitrion Cerulean: It's already been stated, but okay: H'anigi during her trip with Bilbo & Company was 28 years old. The time-skip was 40 years long. So now she's 68. Oh, and thanks.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17:** **Maze of Intrigue**

* * *

Having come out with his identity, revealed to the young woman in a deliberately overlong introduction for the sake of tension, Gandalf paused and waited with a bated breath for the reaction to come. No doubt there would be a response of bafflement and disbelief which would then lead to a question for confirmation to her grandmother who much like himself waited expectantly, the crinkle in her eyes not quite able to conceal her amusement.

They waited, only to find _themselves_ surprised when H'aerindu after a couple moments of staring expressionlessly exhaled a half-whistle that concluded in a remarkably nonchalant, "Okay then."

"'Okay then'?" Gandalf parroted slowly, incredulous, "You sound not even the least surprised."

H'aerindu absently scratched her cheek, "Well, grandma doesn't appear to have gone senile in the intervening time. Beside that," she lowered the hand onto the collars of her sleeveless jacket and the sweater underneath, and lightly tugged at them, "I've had my own experiences with people from other worlds."

" _Other_ worlds?" H'anigi asked with the sort of bafflement they originally expected from her granddaughter, "Are you quite serious?"

"Really. I got some articles of clothing from a particular swordswoman for helping her out, three of which I happen to currently wear." the granddaughter explained curtly and lowered the arm altogether, "There are more, but I should probably not speak of them frivolously."

 _Other worlds, huh..._ Gandalf pondered before he moved on. Contemplation as to this particular subject could wait for later, should it ever come up. "Fair enough. Shall we move on to business?"

"Agreed." H'anigi sighed, "H'fhili, would you go and bring the box from my luggage?"

"Of course..." the male drawled and left for the bedrooms.

"Ser Aymeric, will you be staying with us?"

"If it is of no trouble, I would be glad to attend." Aymeric – who seemed to have accepted the string of revelations with an ease Gandalf suspected came solidly from a firm belief in the Warrior of Light – provided a small bow and replied smoothly.

H'anigi nodded and took to her chair, "Then let us all be seated." And so they did. Gandalf eased himself back down, Aymeric took the one H'fhili left, while H'aerindu, her brows furrowed, sat on the chair opposite to her grandmother, "As you might have guessed from our conversation just now, H'aerindu, the matter of importance I called you here for is connected to my long-ago stay in Middle-Earth. Or more specifically an item I happened to... acquire toward the end of it."

H'aerindu placed her elbows on the table as she leaned slightly forward, "An item?"

Just in time did H'fhili make his return, and placed a box made of lead in front of his mother who proceeded to pluck from her robes a key she immediately applied. "Yes. However, this is no simple baubel, and it's no mere trinket. It's an artifact of great power," the aging miqo'te grimly said as she opened the box and reached into it. "but not a benevolent one."

H'aerindu inhaled sharply as the item in question was brought into light and held up. To the untrained eye it looked like no more than a simple golden band, but it was very apparent that the Warrior of Light did not perceive it merely as such.

"You already see how it devour aether, yes?" H'anigi observed grimly, "That, my granddaughter, is but the beginning. My friend possessed it for a short span of time, and wore it for some of it. The Ring made him desire it, become possessive of it to the point where he nigh-forsook reason and even his own safety. I removed it from him to make sure the symptoms would not further worsen."

"And you have possessed it for so much longer." H'aerindu pointed out solemnly, her gaze fixed on the crone, "How is it then that you have remained unaffected?"

"Because among the first things I did when I got back was put it in this box I bought at the time and put it away three foot under in a location of my knowing alone."

She nodded, but was unsatisfied, "Okay, I guess... but why keep it when you could instead destroyed it?"

"If she could, I believe she would have seen to it a long time ago." Gandalf joined in, "Alas, this artifact can only be unmade where it was made; a place called Orodruin, otherwise known as Mt. Doom."

The grandmother rubbed her left shoulder for a spell, eyes narrowed, "I learned as much in Erebor, though not the exact location. Given the name, any trip to it must be perilous."

He agreed, "Mt. Doom is seated within the land of Mordor, south-east from the Lonely Mountain. A dark place of fire, poison, and surrounded by tall mountains, populated mostly by foul creatures spawned from the abyss."

"And to my knowledge," he continued, "that land also serves as Smaug's current abode – within the ancient fortress of Barad-dûr."

H'anigi shuddered as if a less than welcome memory decided to visit, "Ack, him."

"This conversation turn ever more fantastic." Aymeric muttered his observation, "Are you certain it can not be unmade by some other means?"

"I am certain... Any tool used on this ring shatters, and fire does not even leave a mark."

"So it can only be destroyed at one location, and it curses those who possess it." the Lord Commander steepled his hands and summarized neatly, "If I may be so bold; what is the purpose of this meeting?"

"I'm getting to that, Ser Aymeric." H'anigi snorted, her emotions rendered rather mixed by his bluntness, "But for that I must speak of what led to the day I made the decision to seek out my adventurous granddaughter."

"When I first removed the Ring from Bilbo, I did it to protect him. Since then it became a sort of guardianship where I made sure that others would not suffer as he did." she continued gravely, "Unable to even damage the twelve-cursed thing, I confronted the possibility that my responsibility would one day have to be passed down to someone else."

"I suppose you chose me..." H'aerindu said, her expression carefully kept neutral.

"Not at first, but you became since your departure the most foremost candidate in my estimate. Still, I did not plan to reveal all of this until the end of your adventures, after your return to us."

"What changed?"

"A few weeks ago we started to hear rumors of beastmen never before seen."

Gandalf did not know if H'anigi noticed, but H'aerindu's eyes widened almost imperceptibly.

"Not much to take note of at first – a few sightings here and there – but with each rumor these creatures seemed to creep ever closer to our village. Suffice it to say I made inquiries toward these creatures' appearances, and found my then newly grown suspicions confirmed:" She said, and followed it up with a word steeped in distaste; "Orcs."

"Orcs..." Aymeric pondered, arms folded, "The creatures who in your book made up the bulk of the antagonist forces."

"The same." H'anigi confirmed darkly, "Based on a particular occurrence during my brief stay in Lake-town I concluded they had come for the Ring, and from that conclusion came my decision to depart."

"You make it sound as if they somehow knew exactly where it was from the start."

"Not the orcs themselves, I'm certain." Gandalf said, "In all likelihood those seen were in the company of a band of Nazgûl, Ringwraiths, creatures of undeath whose existence are tied to that of the One Ring."

"Undeath? You speak of ashkin..." H'aerindu spoke up suddenly, "Does the title 'Witch King of Angmar' ring any bells?"

"Of course!" he confirmed in a near-start, greatly alarmed, "For he is the leader of the Ringwraiths, of whom there are nine... How have you come to learn of him?!"

"I came across him not even half a day ago." she said promptly, and proceeded to tell in short of the encounter. A slew of information that left him ill at ease.

Gandalf groused wearily, "The enemy has not been idle..."

"Neither have we, though the Ascians' involvement in this complicates things. There is no such thing as a wall that can bar them, you see, and only a few can actually fight them with any measure of success."

"Yes... these Ascians you speak of. What are they to pose such a danger?"

"A group of people – a cult to be more specific – who possess immense power, and are notoriously difficult to permanently put down. In all my time I've only seen three killed to that extent... two by myself, though not without help, and one by Thordan during his little spat as a primal."

"My father." Aymeric noted without pride, a distant look in his eyes.

"You know," H'anigi said slowly, "was it not for your regular god-slaying, I'd have aged several years this last minute alone from shock and fear for your well-being. It boggles even me how you can keep wading into danger and face foes like that yet emerge unscathed time and time again."

Gandalf chuckled, though it was halfhearted given all of what he just learned, "As I recall, H'anigi, you have a few feats of daring to your own name."

The elderly miqo'te shrugged, "Nothing on the level of what my granddaughter oft commit to, Gandalf. I would have run away if I ever faced a primal, even with an army at my back."

"Which is perfectly understandable by the way." H'aerindu supplied darkly as she reclined against her backrest, "For any conventional army, fighting a primal inevitable result in a high number of casualties – half of those involved bound to end up either dead or tempered."

"And you beat them down singlehandedly without breaking much of a sweat." H'anigi smiled and commented with the wave of a callused hand, "It's not for nothing that you're considered a living miracle by the Grand Companies, having turned the slaying of primals into a zero-casualty venture."

"Yeah... but in any case," she cut in uncomfortably, eager to change the subject, "I believe we have digressed from the main point of this conversation for long enough."

An agreement passed around the table.

Aymeric cleared his throat, "H'anigi, your intention all along was to give over your burden to your granddaughter, yes?"

"Regrettably, that is so." the elder replied somberly, "This Ring can not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands, and I, hindered as I am by my advancing age, can not for much longer keep it secure – not against such fiends as those we've just discussed. My granddaughter, the Warrior of Light, is the only one I can pass the torch onto."

"That is quite understandable, I admit," Aymeric nodded in recognition of that point, "but I must question whether it's at all a practical solution."

"He's got a point, grandma..." H'aerindu said hesitantly, her fair face marred by unease, "For me to keep people away from it, mobile as I am from day to day given my duties, I would be required to keep it on me at all times – which would by your own admission be a dangerous proposition, yes?"

"Therefore," the Lord Commander spoke up again before H'anigi could reply as he loosened his arms and gesticulated broadly, "I would suggest that rather than burden the Warrior of Light needlessly with its tainted presence, we take and seal it someplace safe."

H'anigi looked as if she had swallowed something sour, "And where, if I may ask, would such a convenient location be?"

"Why, in our fair city of course. We have numerous deep vaults exactly for such a purpose – where dangerous artifacts are kept firmly behind lock and key."

H'aerindu sighed wearily, "Safe enough to keep it from those orcs and Ringwraiths perhaps, yes, but not from the Ascians I'm certain."

"That..."

And so the time for his own argument has finally come.

Gandalf brushed his beard idly as he rejoined on a serious note; "Even if it was a workable solution, Ser Aymeric, Sauron, the Dark Lord, have many weapons in his arsenal, powerful servants, and vast legions to command. Ishgard is a mighty bastion indeed, but even it would be hard pressed to withstand such might – a force that know neither pity nor remorse."

"Consequently, I am sure, all of you understand the conundrum. The scale of it." Gandalf continued firmly, "As such, allow me to offer a more viable option, though H'anigi does not at all favor it."

Aymeric frowned, though he gestured for him to proceed, "Please, by all means."

"My thanks, Lord Commander. Now, firstly, I assure you, to withhold the Ring from enemy hands is the right choice of action, but not a task to maintain for overlong. Sauron is an immortal who was ancient when the world was young. He has spent thousands of years to build up his strength, and can easily wait for any length of time for your defenses to grow weak should it be necessary."

"Hence, the only solution to your quandary is to cast the Ring back into the flames from whence it came."

 _OoOoO_

H'aerindu listened closely as the old man made his case, and over the course of it felt a lump build up in her throat – the latest addition to a dire sensation of unease that has grown for much of their conversation as they grew closer to the point where she would have no recourse but to disappoint her grandma. A part of her based largely on familial loyalty fully wanted to accept the responsibility laid out to her, but all the rest refused to back down over how flawed this guardianship appeared to be from the onset.

There existed no easy way to handle it.

Only what Gandalf offered sounded viable to her sharp ears. His argument made sense, and there was no shortfall of logic.

Still, she would not let him get away with it without at least a pointed question:

"And how exactly do you suggest we go about that?" H'aerindu demanded crossly while she tapped her right-hand index finger against the wooden table.

"A good question, although you frankly need not concern yourself as to the how." Gandalf fixed her with a solemn gaze, "All I need of your family is to give over the One Ring, and allow the Free People of the Middle-Earth to carry out its termination by all the means available to us. I will not ask for any further sacrifice than that."

 _Just hand it over and let them take care of this whole situation for us..._ H'aerindu, eyes downcast, blinked as she processed this. It sounded so simple, but to say this out loud would be to outright lie as she with pain in her voluminous chest looked to her grandparent who appeared older now than ever before, rendered quite unhappy by the knowledge that her reason to withhold the artifact no longer held any water.

"What is your opinion on this, grandma...?" H'aerindu probed cautiously.

H'anigi filtered her hands together and clenched them as she chewed on the words, "You already know the position I hold, my dear – trapped as it is between the primal and the deep blue sea. All I can say is that I came to hand over the responsibility of my task onto you. What you do from here... is your choice."

On the surface it came out as grim acceptance of what is to come, but there was an undertone of slight bitterness that froze H'aerindu's blood more in that instant than Shiva ever managed. She tried to make the decision that she was convinced was the right one to make, but found it at this moment in time impossible.

Meanwhile, Gandalf watched her unflinchingly, "May we have your answer, Warrior of Light?"

 _Cute. An appeal to duty..._

"Actually," H'aerindu instead said as she pushed her seat back and stood up, absently aware that every person currently in the establishment watched her closely – a few of them unflatteringly. She bluntly ignored them, her attention solidly fixed on the old man and her grandma, "I would like to have some time to think it over, if you please."

"Every hour spent counts, H'aerindu, for the war draw ever nearer." Gandalf sighed, a trace of disappointment hanging over his words, "You may have your time to consider. Do have your answer ready by the morrow."

 _Your disappointment matters little to me, old man..._ H'aerindu thought sullenly, her tail greatly lowered. _I just want to be sure, and give my grandparent time to accept this new reality before we proceed..._ "I will, thank you." she replied stolidly, "Now if you excuse me." and after a silent nod to her relatives left for the outdoors where a storm with strong westward wind now raged.

She ignored it, stuffed her hands into her pockets, and paced away from the establishment.

"Ah, H'aerindu!"

"Lucia." H'aerindu responded in kind as she through against the wind watched Ser Aymeric's Second approach from the stairs that led up to the Pillars.

"Do you know where the Lord Commander has gone to?" Lucia asked as they met at the fountain, "I have been looking for him."

"He was with me until a moment ago." the brunette gestured to the place behind her, "You can find him at the Forgotten Knight."

"Huh, of course he had to be at the last place I'd check." she let out a curt groan, frustrated, "Was there any particular business for you to end up there?"

"Well, I needed to go see my grandma and Ser Aymeric just happened to know at which place she stayed at."

Lucia's eyes lit up, "I see. Someone of renown?"

"Yeah, but instead of mentioning her name I'll go ahead and let that be a surprise."

"Oh, how exciting. I look forward to finding out..." she mused wryly, before her expression took a turn for the more serious, "However, I'm getting a feeling you parted on a less than joyful note."

H'aerindu lowered her shoulders by a fraction, "You could say that."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No, I believe what I need the most right now is a little bit of solitude."

Lucia smiled, "Very well, I won't pry and instead see to it my superior gets back to work."

"Good luck with that." H'aerindu snorted a laugh.

"Ah... that doesn't sound very promising."

"Let's just say it became much bigger a thing than I thought it would."

"Anything I need to know?"

"In short... the incident at Gubal's connected with what we have talked about. We know now where those beastmen came from and what they're after. Ask your superior for the really juicy details."

"I will." Lucia nodded, recovering swiftly from her surprise, "Have a good day, Warrior of Light."

H'aerindu replied in kind, "You too, Lucia." before they parted.

Reasonably cheered by the encounter, the busty Monk walked down the nearby stairs and past the Aetheryte. A pleasant enough start to her walk considering the weather. Uneventful, peaceful, and free from oddity... until a passing shadow made her look to the skies whereupon she spotted a ridden griffin that struggled against the violent winds, followed shortly by a clumsy departure when instead of landing it was made to veer and fly away by its rider whose features were too hard to pick up on at this distance. H'aerindu made a mental note of this, but otherwise did no more than hope the rider's reckless decision would not unduly get him killed.

 _OoOoO_

Decades ago, during an idle moment, Legolas wondered whether the orcish sense of smell worked at all. Now he was reasonably convinced it atrophied ages ago, and that every claim to the contrary must be a brazen lie. He struggled to not rid himself of the stuffy suit of orcish armor he wore as the glaring sun – though they made sure to stay in the shade – heated it up and made the smell magnify in its intensity.

His companions suffered similarly, but handled the misery of it better.

"So let me get this straight." Dagasi whispered tersely from her position roughly between them, "You and these things come from a different world, Arda, in that place called Middle-Earth."

Aragorn confirmed just as quietly, "Indeed."

She briefly paused, and continued; "Legolas ain't an Elezen..."

"Just as I am no Hyur."

"Get real..." she cringed, "'Man' sounds awkward as hell."

Aragorn replied patiently, "It is as it is."

"Fine." Dagasi snorted, "And you two – an Elf and one of the Race of Man – yes, still awkward – came here to hunt down and kill this 'Bolg' character who is the leader of this here lot."

"That's correct. Have you by any chance heard of him?"

"Maybe? Most of these things insist on speaking in a language that only manage to make me feel queasy, so I'm not sure whether I heard of the name or a word that sounded like it."

"Hmm. Do you know of any areas of note around here?"

"I believe the nesting area where all the beasties for the assault I've mentioned are kept."

"A good place to start." Legolas nodded as he took this in, "Show us."

"Right. We'll need to cross a couple of bridges that lead to the neighboring islands."

"Islands?" Aragorn inquired.

"You haven't gone near the edges yet?"

He stared in puzzlement Legolas too felt, "Edges?"

"Um, just wait till we get to the first bridge and you'll see." Dagasi went on ahead, gesturing daintily while at it, "Come, this way."

Legolas and Aragorn nodded and followed her at a brisk pace only slowed by the local traffic. They crossed several groves and squeezed through thickets and densely packed heaps of tents alike, ever careful to stay out of the light – an effort their guide was largely confused by.

She inevitably spoke up about it in a fit of pique when Aragorn steered her from the fourth clearing they encountered, "Why are we avoiding the light?"

"Orcs have a strong aversion to it." Aragorn informed. "Entering an area well lit by light of day unhesitatingly where it can easily be avoided would go a long way to expose us."

"Ick, how bothersome." Dagasi hissed.

Legolas said nothing to this, and they moved along till they arrived near what appeared to be a broad chasm, complete with a bridge made of crude metal. Still he had no idea why the respective sides could be defined as islands. It was only when they almost came to the cusp of it, and Legolas looked around, did he come to understand even if his mind did struggle to believe what he saw.

Firstly, the chasm had no discernible bottom. Only a carpet of mist or clouds that seemingly stretched endlessly.

Secondly, to the sides he found no connection. These two landmasses were completely disconnected from one another.

Thirdly, everywhere he could see, he found islands and veritable mountains of all sizes that floated serenely in the air. From this place alone he could see hundreds drizzled across the scenery and all the way to the horizon and possibly beyond. Legolas was by this view for the first time in a long while stunned beyond his ability to believe. He stared, slack-jawed, as his mind struggled to take this in.

Given what he heard from the others, Aragorn had a similar reaction.

"Hah," Dagasi sounded absurdly pleased, "should see the looks on your faces." though her tone changed to worry when she started to push them along. The reason was readily apparent.

"Move, maggots!" growled an orc from behind them, irate from the abrupt holdup.

Legolas blinked, and in his recovery made tremendous haste till they cleared the bridge and reached the nearest piece of cover before Aragorn put up the question that coincidentally was foremost on his own mind: "W-what did we just see?"

"This region's referred to as the Sea of Clouds." Dagasi said, the smile back on her, "Fits, doesn't it?"

"It d—" Legolas began to say, only to have his voice drowned out by the loud blaring of a distant horn that made every orc in their vicinity pause with a start and give an upward glimpse.

Dagasi rubbed her ears, her momentary good mood ruined, "Er, what's going on?"

"A call to muster." Aragorn shook his prior incredulousness off and informed, as if spurred on by this recognition of that signal, the familiarity of it. "The final preparations for the attack you spoke of must have begun."

"If so..." Legolas looked to their female companion in renewed urgency, "Let us not tarry for a moment further. I fear we have little time."

 _OoOoO_

The instructor was old for one still in service. Levioux's gait no longer held within it the steadiness that so characterized him at the prime of his youth. A sad state of affairs that made him ill fit for much beyond instruction to aspiring knights. A job he found a strange amount of satisfaction in. Having spent all of his life among Ishgard's knighthood, he never expected to raise a family, and unexpectedly found one in the recruits he received.

Did not stop him from working them to the bone, though. 'Mr. Burns' they called him, a nickname born from his hellish training regimen and not to mention his huge sideburns.

And his decision to start a heavy exercise in this snowstorm did not much to alleviate him of it. Not as he ordered the dozen recruits in his care to run laps around the courtyard whilst clad in weighty suits of plate armor. Yet this was not hard enough in his opinion, and he considered ways to make it all the more strenuous for them until the moment when a beautiful miqo'te female clad mostly in red and was partially caked in snow strode slowly into the courtyard, her expression a thoughtful one, and slowed as she blinked at what was going on.

"Lo and behold!" Levioux barked, "A maiden has come to watch, boys! It's time to impress, so tiptoe it!"

"I-in these suits?!" the nearest youth complained.

"Your question just made it harder for all of you! Tiptoe away, and put a real bounce to it!" he barked back all the louder, "First two to falter before I say so get to hold hands and do it together!"

"Show us some mercy, Mr. Burns." the next one in line shouted while those more confident in themselves laughed and started betting.

"Oh but I am!" he answered with no loss of volume, "Or would you like to sing to the glory of Fusenoix's frilly stockings too?!"

"We'd sooner die!"

"Don't take that tone with me, kid! Get going instead!"

"Why do I get the feeling I'm being used?" the female asked as she drew closer, watching the fully armored recruits do their best to bounce from toe to armored toe.

"You'd be right. In any case they should be able to handle this much." Levioux pointed out, "The harder I train them, the longer they'll live."

"Makes sense, but try not to break them in the process."

"Aye aye." he shrugged, "So what have you come out here for? Looking aroundfor a buck strong enough to bed you?"

"Surely you jest..." H'aerindu responded immediately, "I'm just taking a walk."

"Of course you are..."

She threw him a warning glance, "And what was that supposed to mean exactly?"

Leviaux held up his hands, "Nothing at all! Just an old man rambling."

Right then, a recruit tripped and fell. "That's one!" he exclaimed to the boy's dismay, "Who'll be the second!?"

Startled by his call, the next kid slipped andcrashed.

"There we go. Now lock hands, you two, and frolic about like a pair of pansies!"

"No way!" the recruits in question yelled back in unison while the others hooted in anticipative laughter.

He ignored their protestation and cleared his throat as he stood to attention, "Hop to it before I have you recite the song!"

"Y-yes, Mr. Burns!"

"Come to think of it," the woman set hands against hips and muttered thoughtfully, "how old are these recruits of yours? Sixteen?"

"Two of them are fifteen. Oldest of the lot."

"Ain't that a little young for enrollment?"

"Orphans the lot of them. Lost their families in the war."

It did not even take her eyes a moment to gain in clarity. That and a solemn"... I see." was all she offered in response.

Ah, she knows... Leviaux thought, and nodded as he continued to watch the kids train.

 _ _OoOoO__

"Dagasi..."

"Yeah?"

"Do you know how these islands came to be?"

Legolas offered no word as his friend and their female compatriot conversed, though it served asa welcome distraction considering he was not at all in love with the second bridge they now labored to cross. Even if it was done from necessity, he did not enjoy how much longer it was. That it creaked precariously under their inconsiderable weight, and that of all the orcs lined up in front of and behind them, only made it worse.

"I don't really know." Dagasi answered carefully, keeping her voice low to not wake suspicion, "My guess is some real nasty earthquakes took place here long ago and allowed whole mountain ranges within the clouds below, filled with air-aspected crystals, to rip themselves loose and soar away."

"Explains how they came to fly. What about them hovering in place?"

Her tone became pointed, "Not an expert on the subject, Aragorn. I'm no native to this region."

"From what realm did you come, then?"

"I could tell you, but I'd rather not go into specifics about the land that did not allow my clan, the Tamao, to live." Dagasi shrugged it off, "So, if you can help it,save your breath."

A sole survivor...? Legolas thought sadly.

"Understood." Aragorn complied, "I have grievances of my own."

Dagasi did not reply.

Shortly after – not soon enough for his taste – they cleared the bridge and followed the filthy crowd down to a rather sizable orc camp that like every other camp they saw along the way lay tucked away in the shade. Legolas watched keenly as they entered it, and noticed a glaring difference from every prior camp.

Aragorn likewise noticed as he examined the ongoing hubbub, "Orcs from two separate groups, Gundabad and Cirith Ungol, assembled into the same camp. They can not possibly not have problems with discipline."

"How so?" Dagasi queried.

"Orcs if not united by fear inevitably turn on one another, a tendency more pronounced among them than any other people. A weakness we can use to our advantage. Legolas?"

"Agreed." Legolas said and made his considerations as they moved deeper into the camp and began to see lines of contentions in the form ofbarely veiled hostility that could be brought into the open if provided with the right incentive, "Dagasi, see if you can find the leader of this camp and immobilize it – interrogate if able. We will see to it that they in their mutual enmity's given an outlet."

 _ _OoOoO__

"Hmm. I can do that."

Dagasi parted from them on that note, and navigated her way through the maze of tents in search of anyone who might fit the label of leader – never mind the fact she had no real idea how to tell these bipedal beasts apart. One way or another she would just have to make do.

Fortune, in any case, seemed to be on her side as she came across a tent noticeably more grandiose than those around it, complete with a couple of crudely drawn banners and heavily armed guards at its entrance.

Both of whom she needed to dispose of and fast. She could already hear a great commotion blossom and explode into an outright brawl some distance away. Whatever Legolas and Aragorn did, they knew just what to do.

An orc covered in what could be considered as ornamental armor erupted from the tent promptly, and shouted in anger at the racket raised, gesticulating wildly while at it. One guard saluted and ran for the source while the other remained.

"Now." Dagasi whispered to herself, took a quick look around to make sure no one watched before she drew one of the knives Legolas gave her, which wasa so mindbogglingly light even together with the other that if she lacked the sense of touch she would have doubted the knifeexisted in her palm at all.

She was not sure if that counted as the result of fine craftsmanship.

Nevertheless she flipped a knife over to take hold of its blade and threw it at the remaining guard who just barely saw it come before it met with its throat and skewered it like a hot knife through butter. Dagasi concluded it was the weapon's sheer sharpness that allowed this, and less the momentum.

The leader cast a look at its collapsing guard and moved to draw the sword from its hilt.

Now for the hard part...

Dagasi brandished her other knife and rushed in, tore the thrown weapon from the felled corpse along the way, and hopped to her left to evade the sword prepared for her before she came about and drove her daggers through the proffered forearm.

"Gah!" the leader howled and dropped the weapon.

That part done, Dagasi withdrew hers and before it recouped moved to its back and wrapped her right arm round its neck before she pulled it with her into the tent where she riposted the thigh and forced her captive to its knee.

"Now if you don't mind," the Au Ra hissed, and placed both knives against the orc's neck to discourage further struggle, "we're going to have a little chat."

A guttural growl left it. Defiant.

She let her knives sink in just enough to draw blood, "Either that or you lose your head."

"Grr..." the orc hissed as a measure of cowardice took hold, "W-what are you after?"

"The location of your leader, Bolg."

"Not around here."

"I have an angry elf on my side." She warned, "Speak up before he joins us. Now, where can we find Bolg!?"

"A-at the forward base, where the rendezvous is supposed to take place."

"This forward base... It's on the road to Ishgard, right?"

Silence was the response. Dagasi smirked, for this time a different shade of fear had asserted itself. It frankly feared the wrath of this Bolg character more than it feared what she could do to it this instant, which was as good a confirmation as any. Thus, seeing no further use to stick around, she slitted the creature's throat and made her exit.

It did not take long to find her compatriots, who in the midst of the still ongoing chaos – though it seem to have calmed if the barks she supposed were orders for the violence to stop are of any indication – had come for her. "Did you find it?" Legolas was quietly inquiredonce they met, while Aragorn looked outward.

"I did. Just finished the questioning. Bolg's at a forward base. We're gonna have to join the attack to reach him."

"So our path of escape has become a path to him." Aragorn commented without turning.

"A chance to pin the beast between a rock and a hard place. " Legolas confirmed, "A chance we can not afford to miss." and nodded his fair head at her, "Dagasi, lead us on to the nesting area."

"Right." she replied.

"And Dagasi..."

"Yes?"

Legolas smiled, "A fine task well done."

She responded in kind, "Glad to help."

 _OoOoO_

For an age the Old Forest has laid relatively untouched by those who lived beyond it. Not even Elves dared ventured there, for it has become a wild and dangerous place that take a dim view of outsiders regardless of their nature. For this reason, no one has tried to retrieve the Aetheryte that lie buried somewhere within.

A status quo that was broken two weeks past when a primarily dwarven expedition started to carve their way through its boughs, though it probably would not have taken place at all if not for the lone Istar who was dispatched to help keep the old growth pacified.

From the start of it Radagast felt the Old Forest's agitation toward him and those he traveled with. An ancient rancor that he kept at a distance with whispered spells to both the green and the creatures that resided both in low and high places. It was for certain a beautiful place, but any true appreciation was dimmed by a sense of foreboding, that it watched intently for any opportunity to wreak havoc upon those who have intruded upon this closed realm.

Radagast could work with rancor, and did a fine job at it, until tonight where he was struck by unease.

It led him to suddenly part from the camp and stared into the woods, for something felt wrong on this eve.

"Is there a problem, Master Radagast?" Ori, one of Lord Balin's adjutants, joined him and asked while he proffered a mug he had dropped in his haste.

Radagast did not take it, "The forest feels... restless."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Since we first entered, it has radiated anger red-hot in its intensity." he muttered in a much harder tone than he usually would not bother to ever impart, "But now.. it has become... restless for lack of a better word. I can not fathom the reason for such a change."

Ori took him more seriously now, his face drawn into a frown, "Could it mean that the forest has accepted our business?"

"I wish." Radagast admitted sourly, "Go inform Balin of this development. I must step out for a short while – take a closer look."

"Aye." the dwarf nodded in compliance and left him.

Radagast remained for a moment longer before he walked forward and past the treeline placed a weathered hand onto the gnarled bark of an ancient oak. A touch that brought with it a sense of foreboding, and called his attention to a squirrel and other small woodland animals that suddenly entered his field of vision and promptly ran past him in a tremendous hurry, their furs almost white from a deep sense of fear.

Less than comfortable with this, he hoist his staff.

"We meet at last..." a shadow from within a shadow broiled forth from across a wide front and spoke, "Radagast the Brown."

Radagast shivered involuntarily, for he perceived great wrongness in the existence of whatever has come for him, "Who... what are you?"

"You need not know the answer to either." the presence spoke as it took the form of a man decked in a black robe and a red mask that glowed a malevolent red. "All you need to know, Wizard, is what happens from here and on..."

"Behold." the dark one continued in a grandiose manner as he raised a hand that held onto small orb of flawless glass that contained within it a bat-like creature that seemed to be more a construct of gems than something natural, yet moved like it was the latter, "Artifice created under the supervision of Lord Sauron himself, and imbued with power of our making."

"Such an abomination you can keep to yourself, minion of the dark." Radagast rumbled, rendered quite ill at ease by how it fought for release, its pitch-black and beady eyes focused solely on him, "Begone and fly away. You have no place here."

"Gladly, but first I must divulge this gift."

Radagast watched in rising dread as the glass suddenly shattered and the bat took flight, and with speed that was wholly unnatural raced for him. He had no idea what it was intended for, but every fiber of his being told him not to allow it to come any closer.

Deftly he tried to slap the bat away, and hollered in dismay when the creature swayed from it and in another burst of speed, even faster than before, crashed teeth-first into his chest. Frantically he grabbed and tried to pry it away, but it only dug its claws in and refused removal as it bit down and shot into him some form of dark magic that spread rapidly in a manner much like poison.

Radagast dropped his staff as he lost control and convulsed and heaved in place, "W-w-what h-have you d-done... to me-!?"

The masked man only chuckled cruelly, and faded away. An unpleasant sound that faded only to be replaced by a plethora of voices and heavy footfalls. "Radagast!" he heard Lord Balin shout in alarm as he saw the Wizard in his current state.

"D-don't come any closer!" Radagast shouted urgently, every ounce of his strength invested in the clarity of his voice as the spell ran its course, and caused pain as it touched upon his fëa and hröa both and twisted them, then seized his magic and began to subvert it. He did not know where it would lead, but suspected his sanity would break long before he reached that conclusion. "L-leave me! F-flee from here!" he croaked, "Hurry!"

Whether they did so he knew not, for that the agony was too great.

Soon overwhelmed, Radagast reared back and howled a cry of agony that resounded across the Old Forest and made it shudder with dread.

* * *

 **Author notes:** I initially thought writing this chapter would be easy, but turned very painful and difficult to write. Much like pulling teeth. Oh, and while the Old Forest came to be featured in this chapter, Tom Bombadil won't make an appearance.

As for an answer to comments:

 _Greyjedi449t_ : Thank you.

 _Wolfund_ : Fair enough.

 _Kairitrion Cerulean_ : I'd like to put out chapters faster, but complications slow it down. That said, she haven't gone all out yet.

 _Reishin Amara_ : Never used FF Online, so I can't comment on it.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: Upset**

* * *

It was about time to head back.

H'aerindu said her farewells to the fashionably named Mr. Burns and his hard-working recruits as their exercise concluded, and left the courtyard behind to go see her grandma, get herself a hot drink, and then hit the sack for a little catnap. The weather in any case has gotten bad enough that staying out was no longer of much comfort.

That in mind she hurriedly traversed the streets with a hand planted against her flat cap to make sure it would not be made to fly away until she was no less than ten steps short of the Aetheryte Plaza, where she found an odd sight struggling against the winds.

A dirigible.

She'd question whether the griffin rider from earlier knew how dangerous it was to set out to the sky in the middle of a storm like this, but whoever thought it wise to set out during a storm on a dirigible of all things must surely have taken leave of his senses.

It veered erratically as the whipping winds laid into it without cease, and it openly became a question whether it would crash into the plaza or veer into the clouded depths beyond it.

H'aerindu could do little but watch and consider whether or not to take cover when it became apparent that its rider would not settle for anywhere else but the former, and in a cacophony of broken wood crashed it against the pavement just a scream short of the Brume.

The balloon was set free on impact, and allowed the basket to unceremoniously come still with its passenger who rolled free of it and... squawked in misery.

An Ixal.

Surprised, but not deterred, H'aerindu dashed over to the obviously frostbitten beastman... and found his upper body heavily bandaged in a bid to make sure he would not bleed out from the telling absence of his right arm.

She took to a knee in front of him, "Hey, are you alright?"

The Ixal groaned as it took a long narrowed look on her, its gaze complete with a general form of recognition, "Squawrk... Stupid question, the slayer of gods ask. Yet have a right to comment on stupid act, Sazal does not."

"Yeah..." she agreed, seeing the extent of his injuries, "going out to fly when you lack an arm can't be the wisest thing you've ever done."

"Squawrk! No choice, Sazal had." Sazal coughed harshly as he struggled to push himself up, "Come to beg for help, Sazal has."

H'aerindu tilted her head and dryly asked, "You've come _here_ to ask for help?" Usually when beastmen faced a problem, their go-to option was to summon a Primal. An act usually followed by herself paying said entity a beating.

"Squaaaawrk." Sazal hissed, "Better an enemy we know, Sazal believe." and plucked from his belt a scroll he deftly unfurled and showed to her.

She examined it briefly, "This is... a map of Xelphatol, right?"

The Ixal nodded, "Squawrk! Occupied, it is."

"Occupied?" she parroted.

"Squawrk... Orcs, they call themselves."

 _Should have known..._ H'aerindu did not know what else she expected, "So what happened?" she asked while folding her arms, "I thought they'd try to have you join them."

"Squawrk. Orcs came, demanded that we swear fealty to their God. Refuse, we did. Took Xelphatol by force, the beasts in anger did. A forward base, it is now. For an attack on your castle of rock and stone, it will be used. Winged ones enslaved by filthy Orcs a thousand strong, come for you they will. Soon."

"Strike at them, you must." he hissed and proffered the map.

H'aerindu frowned, but accepted the offered parchment before she folded her arms speculatively, "How soon are we talking about here?"

"Squawrk. Maybe today, maybe tonight." Sazal said after a moment's thought, "Attack at time of greatest advantage, those orcs will. A fool, their leader is not."

"Not much time to prepare in other words."

The Ixal shrugged, "Squawrk. Better some than none at all, Sazal thinks. "

"I suppose that's the truth of it." H'aerindu muttered in thought as her gaze wandered in the Forgotten Knight's general direction as a plan of action took shape in her mind, and noticed not at first when Sazal turned and limped away. It was the limp that brought her back to him, "Where do you think you're going with the wounds of yours?"

"Squawrk... Completed task, Sazal has." he crooned, "Penance, all that remains."

She quirked a brow, "For what?"

"A deep sin, seeking outsider help is. To return now, Sazal cannot."

It took her a moment to realize what was about to happen as Sazal's choice of path took him not toward the gate but to the damaged edge on its left which was rendered bereft of a parapet in the dragon attack that took place soon before she first arrived here. H'aerindu followed him at a brisk pace that hastened as Sazal's did, "Don't you dare, Sazal! There is no need to go so far!"

"Squawrk!" Sazal huffed, "On the contrary, Sazal must. To the Goddess for sin committed, Sazal offers his life in penance."

"Oh no you don't!" H'aerindu hissed as she reached out to grab him by his uninjured shoulder, intent on stopping him from giving up his life in the name of a thrice-damned Primal of all things. Sazal, alas, avoided her grip just long enough to make it to the edge and from there unhesitatingly dropped himself past it, leaving her to just watch as he plummeted into the misty depths below. "Fool of an Ixal..." she lamented bitterly, "Throwing your life away for an entity who can only take and leave you wanting."

She had much more than that to say about the subject, but here in this moment she knew it was but a waste of air and remained only for a moment longer before she attention drifted to the map she was given.

All she could do right now was act on the information provided.

H'aerindu bade a silent farewell and left the place in favor of the Brume, from where she entered the Forgotten Knight via its back entrance and climbed the set of stairs beyond it to enter the establishment where she found an atmosphere quite unlike the one she left.

Meaning the place was once again a place of abundant cheer and chatter.

Quietly she paced among the tables, and attracted the occasional glance along the way. H'aerindu paid no mind to these and homed in on her grandma who alongside her company had in the intervening time switched table to one much closer to the right-hand wall. Uncle H'fhili and the others appear to have been frugal with their drinking, while grandma more or less had more than a pair of empty cups and looked ready for a nap. Gandalf, meanwhile, sat at a neighboring table and smoked on a pipe alongside a smattering of local elders who seemed to share a similar fondness of the practice.

H'aerindu gave the latter group a wide berth as she made for her grandma and gently leaned in to prod her shoulder, "Grandma, are you awake?"

"Give me another moment and I won't be..." the elder yawned as she straightened and smiled, though the act looked rather forced, "Why, have you come with an answer?"

"Actually..." The monk shook her head, "Would you do me a favor?"

"Hoh?" grandma clucked, "That depends on the contents of that favor, girl. Name it."

"Alright..." H'aerindu inwardly sighed in relief and moved on to weigh her words, "Could you lend me the Ring for a day or two...?"

"... You _do_ remember the risks and dangers we've gone over not long ago involved in possessing the Ring, yes?"

"I do." she put her hands together in a pleading gesture, "I'll be very careful."

Grandma nodded slowly, "But... what do you need it for?"

"To be blunt, I need it to stall an army of orcs that's on its way to try and maul this city we're in."

The elder hid her surprise over this information quite fast, "I see, but what do you aim to do after accomplishing just that? Lead the lot on some grandiose goosechase?"

Her answer was prompt and concise; "Dismantle it, piece by piece."

The elder stared for a trice as she took that in, then chuckled heartily, "My, aren't you ambitious."

"I'm aware." H'aerindu giggled softly, "So, may I?"

"Heh. I did say it's now your responsibility, or something to that effect." grandma still hitched as she turned the box around and opened it to reveal the cursed item. A sigh left the crone as she regarded, and gestured to it, "Do as you may."

She gave a slow nod as she carefully took the deceptively heavy item, and after a brief pause candidly deposited it in her pocket. "I'll get going, then..."

"Good luck out there, my granddaughter." grandma said, "Make sure you keep safe."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." H'aerindu assured, and was just about to initiate an aetheric transference when something came to mind that she could absolutely not leave undone before she went. Inwardly frustrated, the monk excused herself and left the Forgotten Knight in a bit of a hurry – partially because she did not wish to give Gandalf time to find out what just happened – and made for the Congregation.

But rather than enter it, she approached the guard who dutifully stood at its entrance – though he shuddered from the storm.

The knight regarded her through the openings in his helmet, "Do you have business with me?"

"Yeah, could you pass on a message to Ser Aymeric or the First Commander for me?"

"What about?"

"Just tell him I said he's got to pay close attention to the borders for the next couple days, especially the portion of it facing Xelphatol."

"There's trouble brewing?"

"An army of beastmen to be more precise." she said and gently shooed at him, "Now, off you go."

The knight inclined his helmeted head sharply and scurried inside, "Yes, milady!"

Left alone, H'aerindu closed her eyes and with practiced focus submerged herself into the aetheric flow that riddled the continent and beyond, and in the blink of an eye materialized at her destination where she was greeted by the salty air of Limsa Lominsa. Some would probably question her decision to go there, considering Xelphatol's in entirely the opposite direction, but she had a good reason to go there. Or two of them to be more specific. H'aerindu raised a finger to her right ear and prodded the linkpearl, "Alphinaud, Alisaie, are you there?"

Frankly, she was more or less checking if they're here. If not she would move on to the next city and try again until she reached them.

"Aye, we're here." Alphinaud respond after a trice likely spent exchanging a surprised glance with his sister; "Is aught amiss?"

"That would be to understate the situation." H'aerindu told them bluntly, "A lot of information came to light during my visit to Ishgard, and we have precious little time to act on it. So if you can, make your way to Camp Dragonhead posthaste. I'll tell you everything once you're there."

Alisaie audibly nodded, "For you to take charge like this the situation must truly be dire. We are on our way now."

"I'll be going ahead, then." H'aerindu said and again initiated a teleport that at once brought her to the biting cold of Coerthas where she was quick to descend from the aetheryte and rustle up a couple of chocobos she then brought to the north-eastern gate where she went on to summon her own. After that, aside from tending to the birds and feeding them some gysahl greens to get on their good graces, all she could do was wait.

She did not have to wait for long, fortunately.

"Of course there had to be a storm here..." Alphinaud shuddered like a leaf as he and Alisaie came down the stairs and approached, "I truly hope you elected this place for a reason apart from the sake of privacy."

H'aerindu smiled assuredly, "Then you'll be glad to know that I do have a good reason. It's the place closest to where we're going: Xelphatol."

"Xelphatol?!" he exclaimed partly in horror, "Have the Ixal gotten in their heads to try and summon their Primal again?"

Alisaie shook her head credulously, "Of course they haven't. H'aerindu would have gone without us if that was the case."

"I suppose you have the right of it..." Alphinaud pinched his nose and sighed before he focused on the miqo'te, "Let's hear it, then. The whole story from beginning to end."

H'aerindu nodded and moved on to thoroughly explain without further ado, though concisely wherever it could be done, about her various meetings in Ishgard that culminated in her encounter with the wounded Ixal and from there the brief preparation and the precaution taken before she left to find them. "And that just about sums it up."

To say the least, the twins' shared reaction to her story was priceless – their expressions frozen stiff out of sheer bewilderment.

"Yeah..." she scratched the back of her head awkwardly, "It's a little much to take in."

"Indeed..." Alphinaud clearly struggled to digest the information, "I have... _so_ many questions in need of answers – all of which must regrettably wait in the interest of expediency."

"Feel free to ask while on the way." H'aerindu gestured to the chocobos who have begun to peck at the ground in wrapped preoccupation, "We have a situation to deal with, and Twelve knows how much time to act on it."

"Very well." he sighed and looked to his sister, "Alisaie?"

"I'm good." Alisaie managed to boast as she neared and took the reigns of the closest bird, though she still appeared a little stunned, "Let's get mounted and head out already rather than look upon me with such worried eyes."

Alphinaud did not try to argue, "As you say."

"Right." H'aerindu nodded and beckoned for her chocobo to come over while hoping that they would get there in time.

 _OoOoO_

"So this is the forward base..." Legolas heard Aragorn mutter as they beheld an ocean of stilted platforms and buildings covered in borderline erratic activity as the local personnel along with droves of tall avian creatures with chains on their neck and wrists tended to the arriving fleet – beasts and riders alike.

They already climbed from their own, and left Dagasi and the receiving handlers to settle it into position on the cradle prepared in advance.

In retrospect it was a stroke of good fortune that they found Dagasi, for without her their attempt to be recruited into the attack on Ishgard would have undoubtedly failed. The Captain who made the rounds to find volunteers to fill in for those who perished during the earlier riot was just about to give them the thumb down before Dagasi, bless her, said she's confident about her flying skills but would not go without the two of them.

Given the approval, they were carted off to the nesting grounds proper where they were given a Cetus – a monstrous beast with beady yellow eyes, massive maw that reeked of death, and a shape more congruous with the creatures of the sea – that like every other of its kind present wore a huge harness from which more than a dozen warriors were suspended through use of many reinforced leather straps.

She became its rider while Aragorn and himself were seated beside her as protectors.

What followed was a harrowing ride that spanned almost the whole breadth of the Sea of Clouds that only ended upon their arrival here in this misbegotten place. A harsh and barren land that was most likely to the orcs' liking.

Legolas huffed as he observed one of the avian creatures who tended to a griffin in a manner that was strangely reverent, its hawkish gaze betraying a trace of envy that struck him as odd, "It's a little too elaborate a place to have been built by orcish mitts, though. Mayhaps it was captured from a native community."

"You may have the right of it." Dagasi deeply sighed as she joined them while rubbing her back, "I believe this jagged land might be Xelphatol. The capital territory of the Ixal – those bird-looking people you see strutting about."

"Ixal, you say?" Aragorn queried curiously.

She nodded, "One of several races of beastmen native to Eorzea. But having said that, there ain't much else I can say about the lot. Haven't been here for long. What I can say, though, is that the beastmen here are a lot more ornery and foolhardy than those back home."

"Much like orcs, then?"

A shrug was her response to that. The initial one, Legolas suspected before the chime of a bell interrupted her.

"Sounds like it's time for dinner." Aragorn observed glumly, "Not like we have much of a choice. Try not to gag on what they serve, Dagasi..."

"How bad could it be?"

"Functional far as foodstuff go, but sorely lacking in terms of flavor. Don't be surprised at what you might find..."

"Great... Where do we go from here?"

That problem solved itself pretty fast when an orc of more a grouchy disposition approached them, its gaze momentarily roving over the warriors who have just been released from their cetus – all of them without exception delighted to have firm ground beneath their feet again, however precarious it might be.

"Attention, maggots!" it growled aloud to everyone but the handlers who dedicated more and more of their manpower toward feeding the beast, "Find your seats and shut up!"

The grouchy orc continued; "The cooks will soon make the rounds! You will eat what they give you without complaint and rest until the appointed time! End of message!"

A slouched warrior growled, "We are meant to only bide our time here?"

"This is an order from the Warlord." the messenger bit like that settled the argument, "Any of you who disobey will face punishment most severe! Do you understand or will I have to make an example?"

Not one further protest was uttered.

The messenger glared for a moment longer, and then left them to their own devices.

"We're stuck here, then..." Dagasi huffed as she seated herself on a nearby crate.

Aragorn followed suit, "It matters not. From the onset we suspected a chance would not come ere we reach Ishgard."

That did not make Legolas feel much better, though, as he too found a place to sit. Bolg's here, yet he could not act on that knowledge. Annoyed, he could only recline and try to relish in the sensation of being on a solid surface rather than on the back of a hideous creature, even if the wood it was made of was long dead.

OoOoO

Alphinaud's supply of questions was positively replete, but within the hour it took to arrive at an area beyond Tapaxoli called the neckbone he managed to pry enough information out of H'aerindu to get a full grasp on the situation. Needless to say he was deeply surprised to learn that she was related to H'anigi Tohl by blood, an author whose name was known even in Sharlayan, and that her book was based on true events that took place on an alien world – which have now by all indication come to bite Eorzea's collective arse.

If he held within a sliver of doubt it revolved entirely around the claims made by the Ixal she mentioned, though he did recognize how unfair said doubt was.

One way or another he would soon put that final question to rest.

"There has to be a vantage point somewhere around here." Alphinaud muttered as they moved along the sole unbroken path they knew of in this exceedingly mountainous region in which they've not observed even the slightest vestige of wildlife, "Anywhere we can view Tapaxoli from before we proceed... like a guard post or lookout."

"Mayhaps the Ixal never had such a place built." Alisaie argued.

"If so, they must be more foolish than I previously imagined. Lack of early warning made their Chief an easy prey when H'aerindu was here last."

"Nothing we can do but keep our eyes peeled."

"That's not—"

"I see one..." H'aerindu suddenly interrupted just as they crossed another bridge, her voice loud against the rushing river below.

"Where?" he blurted.

She raised an arm and pointed up toward the right-hand cliff to a place Alphinaud did not immediately see until he noticed an irregularity that looked like no more from their position than a small dent that was to the cliff as an inconspicuously small cavity would be to an otherwise spotless canine.

Alisaie whistled, "I'm surprised you could see that..."

"It wasn't there last time." H'aerindu supplied modestly, "Still, us using it comes down to whether there's a path to take."

 _Of course..._ Alphinaud lamented silently. "Let's look around."

It fortunately did not take long. They searched along the cliff and found a narrow path made so it could not be seen unless passersby sought for it specifically. Pleased with its finding they disembarked from their chocobos and with H'aerindu in the lead ascended the path. It was an unpleasant climb given how easily one could fall from a single misstep, but they took proper caution and in due time made their arrival into the lookout proper where the floor was found to be covered in blood.

Any question in regard to whatever happened at this post died, however, as they came around and looked upon Tapoxoli. Far as cities go it was not particularly large, but the way the place was built within and around a mountain provided it an illusion of greater size it did not have. Alphinaud's attention was not on the city, though, but the cloud of winged creatures that in a manner of speaking orbited the city, with a number descending to land every other moment.

"That must be the army Sazal referred to." H'aerindu observed, "Looks like they just arrived."

Alphinaud took note of that, but all he could say was; "I've never seen so many griffin in one place."

"Nor so many Cetus for that matter." Alisaie folded her arms and added, "Can't believe anyone's crazy enough to try domesticating those things. They're ornery at even the best of times."

"Indeed, but that's neither here nor there." he applied an index finger to his chin, thoughtful, "Rather the question is how to approach this..."

"Same way we usually do." H'aerindu evenly said, "Cut off the head of the snake, and every one of its ligaments found along the way."

"The removal of leadership from top to bottom." Alisaie noted more to herself than any other, "That would curtail the invasion quite handily."

He considered it, "It would, but you and I, Alisaie, are ill suited for prolonged combat. Thus we must structure our plan to account for that deficiency."

Alisaie huffed, "Speak for yourself."

"Don't you act like I haven't noticed. Your aetherial blade may be powerful, but it taxes you severely. If I let you go in there, the situation might well reach a point where you can maintain it no longer... where you can no longer assist the Warrior of Light, but instead become a burden she must protect."

She appeared none too pleased, "Then what are you suggesting that we do?"

"Instead of following her, we will stay here and act in support." Alphinaud said, "I'll use my Carbuncle to scout ahead and be her eyes and ears where she's not…"

"That's... You know how much focus that will require, yes?"

"Which is why you will have two tasks. Namely to watch for any large scale movement, and protect us both from encroaching patrols as I will not be able to act on them. I am aware this plan of action's not wholly agreeable, but it's structured specifically to help H'aerindu move in for the kill without burdening her unnecessarily."

"Well, I have no complaints." H'aerindu broke her lapse of silence in approval of the idea.

Alisaie rubbed her forehead in frustration, "I suppose it works..."

"Then it's settled." Alphinaud said as he gravitated toward a path of floor not covered in blood and sat down cross-legged before he held up his tome and slowly opened it while he channeled aether into its framework and through every enchanted page, focused on the release of his Obsidian Carbuncle. "H'aerindu, make your way now. I'll be right with you."

"Okay." H'aerindu replied and started on her way back down, "Just be ready to intervene during the start. Infiltration's not my strongest point, so I won't even bother."

"I'm aware."

To begin with a woman dressed in mostly scarlet would not be fit for such a task. Alphinaud shrugged it off and brought his carbuncle into being. The aetherial creature bounced around energetically while he watched, touching the ground fleetingly like it was apart from the reality around it.

Alphinaud took a deep breath and reinforced the bond between himself and the summoned creature before he took up his pen and jotted down the first set of instructions.

 _OoOoO_

Rhâsghall hated being posted as a sentry.

It bored him out of his skull. From noon and until the deep end of afternoon he was allowed to do little by Captain Gargchs but to stare across a lifeless expanse from his watchtower with only a crooked bell for company while the rest of his unit gambled and lazed about below in the comfortable knowledge that this here gate was so closely built against the mountain entrance that only he, the sentry, was readily visible to the outside world.

Being the newest and lowest in rank, this lot was all he could expect.

Resigned to another afternoon with nothing of worth to see, Rhâsghall listlessly stared while wishing for something, anything, to break up the tedium.

That was when a strange scarlet-clothed woman sporting a bushy tail appeared from the most distant bridge in sight and in a deliberate fashion paced slowly toward them, her gaze fixated on the flimsy gate. The bizarre calm of her approach perplexed Rhâsghall until it occurred to him what he should do.

"Captain!" he hollered down in the black speech, "We have an intruder on our hands!"

"An intruder?" Captain Gargschs bellowed back.

Out on the Gap, the female slowed to a stop and appeared to listen in with apparent comprehension, which struck him as impossible. _My eyes must be wrong..._

"A she-cat!" Rhâsghall responded, "Soft and healthy to the eye, and seem disinclined to leave!"

"Looks like we have meat on the menu again, boys!" the Captain growled gleefully, "Open the gate!"

An acknowledgment was shouted and the gate was shoved open so Captain Gargschs and all dozen of his subordinates – except Rhâsghall himself – stomped out to claim the female who had yet to move until her gaze met the Captain's. A smile formed on her lips and she approached in turn with the same slow walk from before.

 _Does she have no fear?_ Rhâsghall wondered. A part of him looked forward to the meal ahead, while another began to question whether he's overlooked something.

The latter hung in his head as the distance closed between the she-cat and Captain Gargschs till she... slipped past him. Rhâsghall thought he allowed her to pass with the intention of cutting her down from behind... only to see the Captain inexplicably fall dead.

It happened so quickly that he and those out there could only watch in momentary silence, unable to process what just happened.

Until she smirked at them, brought into her hands a pair of blunt weapons fashioned like the heads of fierce feline creatures, and with a boot pressed into the soil so it cracked picked up a whole lot more brisk a pace that was but a step removed from a dash. At this point the dozen orcs woke up from their lapse and with weapons bared raced forward, confident in their advantage of numbers.

Rhâsghall was similarly confident till she ducked beneath an oncoming axe, and delivered such a fierce knee-first kick to its owner's side that he flew away bent at an unnatural angle.

Without pause she next span to dodge the thrust of an onrushing blade, and applied the momentum from this to slam her right elbow into the swordsman's neck with enough force that Rhâsghall doubted there was much left of the poor orc's cervical vertebrae.

And it went on like that. She weaved through the attackers, her actions to avoid taking hits transferring seamlessly into attacks that landed with bone-crushing strength. It did not even take a few moments before several orcs lay on the ground, dead or dying in the she-cat's wake. Suddenly the difference in numbers looked a whole lot less assuring, and with that Rhâsghall realized that she might get to him soon.

Therein lay a dilemma. Ring the bell or climb down and close the gate before she enters.

Rhâsghall was in the middle of his consideration when an obsidian creature he could not put a name on appeared to his left. An animal that sparkled with ambient energy, its black eyes focusing on him in a calculating manner. He was not sure if it constituted a threat, but decided it's better to cut it down than wait and find out. Rhâsghall drew his blade and raised it high, only to be knocked off his watchtower by a gale-like wind it inexplicably launched.

He coughed miserably from the agony of his rough landing and glared hatefully at the creature that now peered down at him. "Y-you little—!"

Angrily, eager to show it what for and get back on track with what he should do, Rhâsghall pushed himself up and through his pain made for the ladder with much fury... that promptly fizzled out and died when he suddenly found the scarlet-clad she-cat almost right beside him, no more than two paces removed from him.

 _It can't be... Did she kill them all already?_

Rhâsghall hopelessly brandished his blade in a broad swipe that ended soon as it began along with his life as the metal-clad fist of hers made contact with his face.

 _OoOoO_

All things considered, the breakthrough was a resounding success. H'aerindu flexed her wrists as she paced past the sentry whose face she just smashed in, and who was unable to sound the alarm thanks in large part to Alphinaud's intervention.

She hummed to the carbuncle as it descended to the ground and sniffed about, "Nicely done~"

"Just doing my part." Alphinaud replied through linkpearl, accepting her praise modestly, "You won't believe the difficulty of controlling my familiar at this range. It really keeps me on my toes..."

"Well, keep it up."

"Never planned to let you down. Now if you excuse me..." he said, and the carbuncle's posture stiffened before it darted on ahead.

H'aerindu took that as a note not to disturb him, and communicated no more until she entered the greater cavern beyond where the beginning of Tapaxoli opened up before her. Just like before it looked flimsy to her eyes, though she knew by experience that it wasn't. The more noteworthy thing of note was thus the abundance of orcs who alongside chained Ixal weaved through the city's many walkways, many of both tending to griffins that rested in every place with space to spare.

Alphinaud's carbuncle was already nowhere to be seen.

This feat, however, was not one she could replicate. Not in these close quarters.

For that reason, H'aerindu's response when one of the nearer orcs pointed at her in frantic puzzlement was a resigned sigh as she made her entry into the city proper, pausing only to watch as the orcs within sight massed toward the main walkway, confused about her presence, and unaware of how easily their sheer numbers could be felled on these narrow walkways.

"Alphinaud, I believe a slight change of plan's in order..." the monk tightened the grip on her sphairai, "I might be a while..."

 _OoOoO_

"Suppose plans don't always survive contact with the enemy." Alphinaud whispered to her as he at a rapid pace continued to write, careful not to miss a single detail, "I'll try and knock out of bounds what officers I can and ease the burden on you."

H'aerindu's response was as brief as it was concise, "Appreciated."

Meanwhile another paragraph interposed itself on his tome. Information on his obsidian carbuncle's immediate surroundings, the number of orcs at that location, and the presence of one among them who shouted strong-worded orders as they marched. _Cactpot..._ Alphinaud thought to himself, and through a paragraph of his own told the familiar where to take up position, wait for the orc leader to pass, then blow it off the walkway with a well-positioned gale before escaping.

"You're sweating." Alisaie muttered in observation, "Is it really that hard?"

"Think of it as a text adventure, Alisaie, where you have almost no time to read and decide how to proceed."

"Sounds tiring..."

"Oh, it certainly is." Alphinaud admitted, smiling as he was informed that the orc was successfully sent flying. Now to find another one.

 _OoOoO_

For two major brawls to take place on the same day.

Just one was bad enough, but a second one here and now?

"Explain to me now." Warlord Bolg growled after the message was brought of the disturbance below, and in a menacingly slow manner turned to gaze sternly across the central table of this dwelling which used to belong to the lowly bird creatures' Chief, toward the subordinate he once thought competent, "Why would your warriors inflict on us two disturbances less than a day from our first major campaign in decades?!"

Every impulse told him to bring his mace down on the skull of the Flight Commander who groveled before him now.

"Warlord!" Kruglach piped up in strangled fear, "I comprehend this not at all. The first brawl took place out of nowhere, and none could tell who the original perpetrators were..."

"And you have no explanation of the current mess either?"

"I... I dispatched my lieutenant the moment I learned of it! He will restore order, or failing that should be here soon to cast light on the situation..."

And as if summoned, said lieutenant burst through the door and for the sake of expediency shouldered his way through the other officers gathered here – none of whom dared to even grunt while their Warlord watched.

"Lieutenant Gamon reporting in, Warlord, Flight Commander!" the newcomer said in a high-pitched tone, and swallowed nervously as Bolg's severe gaze met his.

"Report, lieutenant." he demanded quietly.

"Yes, Warlord!" the lieutenant yelped, "What's happening below is no internecine argument! We have an intruder in our midst!"

Bolg huffed, "An intruder...? No more than one?"

"Y-yes, Warlord..." Gamon stuttered, "A she-cat formidable beyond belief..."

"I fought a she-cat once. She was of little concern." the Warlord muttered, "What are the damages?"

"... Fifty-three."

"Fifty-three?"

Gamon grimaced, "The number of our warriors slain by the time I left to report back... "

"Scores felled by no more than one she-cat?" Captain Morlog huffed a laugh, "Surely you jest."

"Go see for yourself, then! By the cacophony alone I can tell she's still up and at it!"

"Silence." Bolg demanded, causing the argument to die in the participants' throats, "Where is this she-cat now?"

"The main walkway that pass from the gate and to here, Warlord." Gamon sputtered quickly, "Last I saw... she was nearly at the lifting contraptions."

He snorted, "What insolence." and briefly considered, "We will show her the odds against which she fight. To show her the futility of this struggle."

"You have orders for us?" the Flight Commander asked hopefully.

"And I expect you to carry them out to the letter." the Warlord stood to his full height and ground out, "Failure will not be tolerated..."

The intruder however mighty would pay for her insolence at the hands of his army, and that would be the end of it.

 _OoOoO_

Of all things to happen while they waited for the time to launch, Legolas did not expect a crisis. There was only a mere hint of it at first when a clamor rose from where he suspected the Warlord's HQ was situated – close to the mountainous path – until a number of runners started to make the rounds and lifted the restrictions imposed on enough cetus-bound crews to form a battalion.

A move that amply told Legolas and his compatriots that Bolg perhaps did not have the forces to spare for whatever has cropped up.

Unfortunately they could not act on this as they were hurried onto the mountain path and filtered together with the other crews marshaled, and along the way passed several tables on which bows and quivers were piled up for them to take along. Himself aside, Aragorn received such before they left Sky Base, which left only Dagasi and their orc 'companions' to arm themselves accordingly. After that, given no time for any questions to be asked and answered, they were by the Flight Commander and its goons ushered down the path and through a nearby cave entrance entered the mountain's massively cavernous interior where an arena of sorts lay in wait for them.

"Form ranks, maggots!" the Flight Commander ordered from somewhere near, "Form ranks! Two rows per tier in a semi-circle! Hasten, damn you!"

The battalion did as told.

Legolas examined the place as he followed suit, and found that it carried all the signs of recent construction. While already large from before, enough surface has been added to it to more than double it in size, with a triple-tiered set of spectator stands – onto which the troops positioned themselves as instructed, grunting all the while – that almost entirely surrounded it, terminating into an open gate at the far end.

"Have anyone said what we're supposed to fight?" Dagasi whispered from beside him, audibly confused, "I figured it'd be a slave riot... but it's all quiet here."

"Not entirely..." he said as the fifty or so orcs got into position and fell into something resembling silence, allowing a different and more distant racket to take its place. All present could soon hear the shouts, the clatter of feet and weaponry, and the disappearing shrieks of orcs being thrown off the walkways.

A pleasant cacophony of orcish misery that was momentarily displaced when a hornblower back the way they came went on to signal a retreat to those who are fighting.

Legolas threw a sidelong glare at said hornblower alongside at least a dozen others, not at all pleased to hear a horn meant for a sizable battlefield used in this confined place. A mask of irritation that weakened into a wide-eyed expression of stark surprise.

For right there, between the hornblower and the Flight Commander stood the largest and most muscular griffin he's yet seen, upon which none other than a stern-faced Warlord Bolg was seated, who while haggard and worn from old age nevertheless maintained effortlessly a posture of strength and menace.

"Bolg..." Legolas hissed, his right hand twitching as every fiber of his being demanded that he draw an arrow to shoot the beast.

"Stay calm." Aragorn whispered from behind, "Do not lose yourself to the temptation."

He took a deep controlling breath, "I would like nothing more, but it'd be more than the monster deserves – to perish without seeing the face of its slayer."

"Dagasi," his friend followed up with an implied nod of approval, "be ready to let loose, just in case."

"I was born ready." Dagasi boasted with a mild slur in her tone.

There was yet more to say, but no further words were exchanged as a score of orcs came through the gate, and fled across the arena as if a demon snapped at their heels. "She's right behind us!" the low-ranked leader among them cried out in abject terror while holding its dislocated left shoulder.

 _She...?_ Legolas raised a brow quizzically.

"Bows!" the Flight Commander boomed.

Everyone drew an arrow in relative unison and nocked it, their eyes fixed on the gate as if it made up their whole world. There was an atmosphere of distinct unease in the air as they waited in bated silence.

They did not need to wait for long.

Legolas watched intently as a shadowed figure appeared at the gate, and crossed the threshold at nothing less than a full sprint. "Fire!" the Flight Commander bellowed in response, and every bow twanged, set to saturate the gate and the area immediately before it in arrows. At such a sight, against so many arrows in flight, most people would try to run away, cover their faces, or simply freeze in terror. The stranger did none of these things, instead she kept her posture low and continued to dash forward as fast as her legs allowed.

It was the right choice. She cleared the target area by a hair, just in time for the arrows to arrive and embed themselves harmlessly in the wood. The female, meanwhile, continued to run.

For a fleeting moment while the Flight Commander ordered another salvo, Legolas examined her in full and realized this stranger was of the same kind as the female he saw decades before. The choice of attire was stranger, though it slowed her none at all. But the ultimate question was whether her luck would hold out as the preparation completed, every arrow now pointed directly at her.

In such a situation she should change direction immediately, but instead, much to his confusion, the female suddenly braked to a complete stop.

"Fire!" the order came, and once again arrows filled the air.

Having given up her speed and momentum, she was bound to die within the next trice. That was, at least, what Legolas thought until a strange obsidian creature suddenly leaped past her and with a flip of its preternaturally cuddly form called forth a gale decidedly magical in nature across a broad front, and in so doing slapped away most of the arrows like they just hit an oblique wall of metal. Only a few of the projectiles got past it, but not one of them found their mark.

Having witnessed such a thing, even the Flight Commander was rendered speechless, and in their shared shock not a single orc even budged from where they stood.

"That's... quite a trick." Aragorn whispered.

Legolas nodded, "Dagasi, explain..."

"Um, I believe it's a carbuncle... a type of familiar summoned by arcanists." Dagasi explained somewhat haltingly, "But more importantly... that miqo'te over there..."

"Yes, the orcs make it sound as if she has fought through all below by her lonesome."

"Actually, arcane backup aside, it may not be too far from the truth."

"How so?" Aragorn muttered, "I am sure you're aware of it, but there are well over a thousand orcs beyond this point. To carry out an attack without the support of an army..."

"Would be madness, usually, but since I came to this land I've heard plenty stories of a female fighter whose reputation was built on heroism and a laundry list of impossible achievements." Dagasi whispered tersely, "I'll save you the details, but if anyone can fight through a small army of orcs single-handedly, it's her."

"And you believe this one's she?"

"Don't know. I really can't stand women like her, but I'm betting on that possibility."

Legolas continued his observation of the stranger while Dagasi explained, and found much to appreciate. The stranger's oddly stylish choice of attire was in part covered in splotches of black blood, her otherwise soft and smooth skin was moist from perspiration, and she appeared to be somewhat out of breath. Whether she's the same combatant Dagasi spoke of, it was readily apparent that she was no average fighter. He found no difficulty in believing she's fought her way through the whole mountain, and was awed by the implications.

To a degree, she made him think of Tauriel.

 _OoOoO_

Aragorn could only see a hair of his friend's expression, but recognized the look instantly. It might not have ever occurred to the elf, but looks like that are typical among those who see him fight. More than once Legolas has waded through multitudes of orcs and slain them with such skill and grace that he appeared to be no less than untouchable, like a god of war.

This was probably one of very few occasions where he found himself similarly in awe of another.

"Your words ring true, Dagasi." he said, "In any case... this time of stillness runs overlong."

None among the orcs who fled from her were eager to reengage her, and because of that unnatural creature arrows have proven largely ineffective. She could easily continue her advance.

Instead, she remained in place.

What is she waiting for?

 _OoOoO_

"What's the hold-up, Alphinaud?" H'aerindu quietly asked as she maintained a posture of casual menace and gave off her best glare at the orcs who appeared confused on how to handle her. Those who fought her previously seriously did not want to have another go and gave furtive glances back to powerfully built orc in the back who sat astride a griffin.

There are dozens of orcs here, and she would have been in their midst already if not for a sudden inattention from Alphinaud, which in turn weakened his familiar. The orcs probably did not notice, but his carbuncle was almost at its limit. Right now it was little but a deterrent.

Though admittedly an effective one. The orcs did not seem keen on wasting further arrows just yet.

"Apologies." Alphinaud replied after a further moment, sounding embarrassed, "I just had a little freakout, truth be told."

"Why?"

"There's an Ixali army on the move." Alisaie communicated promptly, "I cannot get a fix on their numbers, but there are a lot of them moving through the adjacent valleys. A great host likely made up of troops from every outpost and village from here to Gridania."

"So they've managed to grow a spine."

"It's certainly not a bad thing in and of itself, but I sense an immense aetheric disturbance in their midst..."

H'aerindu slumped her shoulders by a fraction and sighed, "I retract my previous statement... Those helpless fools have gone and summoned their vaunted Primal again, haven't they?"

Alisaie echoed her frustration quite amply, "I fear it is so..."

"Great..."

"Let's focus first on what we have on our hands at present." Alphinaud rejoined, completely without any trace of irony, "Garuda can wait."

H'aerindu was about to respond in the positive, but cut it short when her skin crawled from an all too familiar oscillation in the aether that told her that harm upon her person's imminent unless she gets the hells out of dodge right away. Almost instantly aware of where the attack aimed at her was about to land, and the relative extent of it, H'aerindu hunched down to pick up the carbuncle and held it to her chest as she threw herself hard to the left, just in time to see three pillars of water converge and strike the place in which she previously stood with sufficient force to punch a hole through the wooden platform.

All the while there came a chorus of extreme disappointment from the orcs. "How?!" one of them howled incredulously, "How did you dodge an attack you didn't even see?!"

"To hells with you, that's how..." was all H'aerindu bothered to say as she completed the roll, dropped the carbuncle and cast her gaze skyward as she got back on her feet. It did not take long to find the culprits.

Alphinaud spoke up next while his familiar's snout twitched unaffectedly, "What happened?"

"Cetus, three of them."

The matter of how such massive creatures came in here was not questioned. Rather the question was how to take care of them. H'aerindu watched the beasts warily as they encroached on the platform and by the will of their respective riders split up. One took up position behind, while the two others flanked her.

All of them settled in just above the spectator stands. Their intention evidently being to strike from beyond her range rather than close in.

The orc who remained upon its griffin raised its arms and howled, "It matters not what she see or cannot see! Strike the she-cat from all directions without pause till she lie slain! Attack, let the execution begin! Attack, in the name of our Dark Lord!"

Encouraged by the impromptu speech, every bow was raised and the beasts at their riders' bloodthirsty behest gained in power – the latter of whom conjured into being large blobs they promptly used to dunk the place in water before two of them surged with ambient electricity.

H'aerindu realized what they are about to do and just as they blasted the place with lightning bolts jumped as high as she could to escape the electrical currents that proceeded to course through the place, only to find that this was what they waited for as the remaining third shot at her a veritable beam of water.

Up in the air like this she could not possibly dodge it. Not in a conventional manner at least.

She twisted herself halfway around and brought both arms up, almost wrist to wrist, and lowered them to the right side of her waist as she channeled a large amount of aether to the little space between her palms where it coalesced into a ball of energy so dense that it could be seen with the naked eye. "Elixir..." H'aerindu hissed and thrust her arms forward, and release the power she had amassed, "Field!"

The blast was intense, as always, but this was less about its ability to incur severe damage at close range and more about the recoil.

H'aerindu yelped triumphantly as the move roughly pushed her out of the water beam's path, though it transformed into a pained cough as she gracelessly landed on the wooden floor. _Ugh... this is bad!_ The monk acknowledged. She needed to reach the crowd where those cetus can't strike at her.

A thought momentarily forgotten when she opened her eyes and found that the air directly above her glittered with a tiny golden light. This was, however, was not an impending attack, but the cursed Ring which had somehow escaped her pocket.

She acted on this at once and raised an arm to snatch it away, only to see it snake itself snugly onto the index finger.

 _Good enough..._ H'aerindu muttered inwardly, rolled onto her belly, and launched herself back on her feet... only to collapse onto a knee as her right foot accidentally slipped into the hole created before. "You've got to be kidding me..."

Eagerly, in direct response to this moment of weakness, the cetus gathered together and released a full salvo of water beams that converged to produce a greater single one. H'aerindu, unable to dodge right now, could only try to lessen the damage and hope it did not slay her outright. To accomplish this she brought her hands together again for another Elixir Field, pouring all the aether she could immediately muster into it.

H'aerindu finalized the preparation swiftly and anchored herself as she held up the growing orb set to burst and unleashed it into the onrushing wall of conjured water, hoping against hope that it would dampen the blow. For that reason, it came as a huge surprise when she was by an enormous recoil launched clear of the hole so she landed inelegantly on her rump when a blast greater than any she's ever produced erupted – its intensity such that it nearly burned her palms. It did not simply produce an explosion of energies, but a beam of incandescent might that outright pushed back against and splayed away the churning water till it without relent engulfed even the attackers who in a scream of incomprehension were promptly swallowed up by its light.

"W-wha—!?" she heard Alphinaud bleat, echoing her own astonishment.

The Elixir Field faded momentarily and left in its place the trio of cetus, now hideously injured, their flesh so charred it was a wonder they did not simply break to ash. The massive creatures remained suspended, then they shuddered and limply dropped out of sight.

"H-how did you manage to do that?" he asked in disbelief.

"I'm not sure..." H'aerindu said haltingly, and set her gaze toward the Ring which still remained on the index finger it fell onto, and found that it now surged with power and a dark will eager for a proper workout and lusted for blood – whether it be hers or that of the orcs. A change from its prior state of relative idleness she had not noticed in her preoccupation ere now.

 _OoOoO_

"What... was that?" Legolas asked lamely.

"Um," Dagasi was similarly stunned, "I have a feeling we just witnessed something impossible..."

Impossible was an appropriate word as presently there existed not one person here who did not gawk in shock at what had transpired. Aragorn likewise shared in it, but his confusion was less than theirs. It had nothing to do with the magic itself, but the reason why this application of it was so much stronger than the one before.

Only for a moment was it in the open, but when Aragorn saw the Ring that was for scarce seconds in the air he took a deep breath that was positively gut-wrenching. Not one in his line has even seen, much less used it, since the time of Isildur, but he knew in every fiber of his being that it was none other than the One Ring. Sauron's tool of supremacy in which he invested much of his fëa.

But why is the One Ring here?

How did it end up on this world?

Aragorn could only conclude that fate meant for him to be here and act on its presence.

No sooner did he arrive at that conclusion, however, before the higher thought processes returned to the orcs who almost invariably began to scream, and in a frenzy of crazed fear swarmed down the stands and across the arena, desperate to see the female slain.

"They have lost all sense of control!" he heard Legolas exclaim as he nocked another arrow and burst into action, "Now is our time!"

"Finally." Dagasi exhaled in glee as she discarded her bow and with her borrowed longknives carried out an impromptu vivisection on an orc below her position.

Aragorn did not move, instead he observed and found that in spite of the miqo'te's apparent state of confusion, she did not let it make her forget about the many foes present as she deftly pulled herself back up and after a preparatory motion that involved a stomp that shook the platform blurred into motion and traversed the distance between her prior position and that of the Flight Commander with such blistering speed that it came with a terrifyingly powerful slipstream that tore many of the orcs from their precious ground and threw them screaming and flailing across the area of effect – several of whom were smashed against the stands and cavern wall.

And as for the Flight Commander who was the most immediate target of her ire, it could not offer even a syllable to express the shock it must have felt upon the miqo'te's arrival. It only managed to open its mouth in dismay before her blow landed and through no more than blunt force blew the creature in half.

In response to this incredible display of force, Aragorn reached a second conclusion.

To summarize according to what little he knew; the One Ring's an amplifier. It increases the native power of whoever wields it in proportion to what they already have. In most hobbits, for example, who have nothing to their name other than the innate skill to make themselves easily scarce the Ring would find little to bolster. But if elevated beings such as Galadriel or Saruman laid claim to it, they would become powerful beyond comprehension.

To her name this lone miqo'te possessed magic of great potency and incredible martial prowess, her body honed to the point it's a lethal weapon in its own right. She's undeniably strong... far too strong to be allowed to be the One Ring's bearer.

If they do not separate her from it, the day might soon come where they will no longer have to worry about a Dark Lord, but a Queen.

"Aragorn," Legolas woke him from his rumination so he grew to realize the griffin was absent, "Bolg has fled! We must give chase!"

Unable to immediately find the words to answer, Aragorn firmly grunted as he threw his bow away and took up his longsword in its stead, then put it to good use on the few orcs who were not as taken in by the madness and tried to surround them.

None of them considered going to the exit yet, though. Empowered as she was by the Ring, the miqo'te tore through her crazed opponents over there like they were made up of wet parchment. Not one person with a strand of sanity to their name would amble into that whirling melee, not while they were disguised as the enemy whose limbs and shattered bodies filled the air around her. Instead he like his comrades held back, and prepared for an appeal as he resolutely cut down one orc after another.

 _OoOoO_

Warlord Bolg dismounted from his griffin as he arrived at the Chief's hut and lumbered heavily into it, his mind quite shaken by what he had just witnessed.

"Ah!" Captain Morlog snapped a salute, "Warlord, has the intruder been eliminated already?"

"Prepare the Aetheryte." he snarled, silencing his subordinate with a glare, "Prepare the Crown."

Captain Morlog swallowed, "W-warlord... wasn't the plan to set it in—"

Bolg struck his mace into the table and collapsed it, "Do it, or your skull will be next!"

"Y-yes, Warlord..."

"Set the Crown once the Aetheryte is ready. To here we will call him, to this field of battle! We will have the Master's prize in our hands by the end of this day!" Bolg roared at Morlog's fleeing form, "And I will see the intruder dead, broken in the jaws of Smaug himself!"

 _OoOoO_

"Make haste lads, make haste! Run for your lives!"

Balin shouted this as yet another tree bristled and started to tear itself from the earth while its branches and vines shot out in search to lock his kin into a deadly embrace. Not in the slightest did he know what happened to poor Radagast, but somehow, because of it, the Old Forest has awakened to a horrific extent.

Against which his host could for now only run away from.

Distantly he heard a terrible scream – one of many thus far – as yet another comrade was taken.

"Keep going and don't stop!" Balin continued to shout over the din, and sped up his own pace all the more when a root he just stepped on contracted in a decidedly unnatural manner. "To the Shire!" he then called out, "Make for the Shire!"

* * *

 _Author notes:_ It was hell to get this chapter done. I actually completed it once before I realized it was complete garbage and decided to rewrite it from the beginning to end, which was the reason why this took so long. Sorry about that. EDIT: And after all that time spent I still end up editing the chapter several times.

 _Merlinius Ambrosius_ : I'm aware. It's worthy to note, however, that the Ring operates in a manner quite different from the Primals.

 _Guest_ : You'll just have to wait and see.

 _Nekogami Bastet_ : Thank you, and sorry about the wait.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Scales a Feather**

* * *

Some of the orcs probably wondered close to the end of their lives as to how she could move among them so swiftly, how she so easily could brush aside their attacks, and how she could lay down such punishment that no amount of protection could save their lives from even a single blow of hers. H'aerindu supposed she could have gone and answered their questions had they not been enemies of hers who would not restrain themselves from assaulting old ones such as her own grandmother if they had the opportunity to do so.

Much of it came down to aether manipulation, through which she could enhance her body in every respect at will up and to the point she could with no more than her bare hands outfight and slay monsters an average person would not stand even a sliver of a chance against without powerful weaponry in hand. The rest of it came down to the blessing of the light, and the Echo – the latter of which provided her with many advantages... such as a form of combat clairvoyance that has saved her countless times.

And then there's the ring she now wore.

H'aerindu's lashed her tail in barely veiled anger as she tore through the orcs' disorganized ranks, having concluded – and not too soon – that her present output was due to the massive amounts of aether the ring forced onto her. Somehow it knew how she strengthened her body and super-powered it to the extent she could now split the flesh of her foes with even the softest of blows.

So easily in fact that when she tried to knock away an orc who came at her from behind with an application of elbow to its face, the head flew from its shoulders in a spectacular shower of blood.

The artifact all the while was somehow deafening in its silent appraisal, gleeful over the sheer power it could make her put out.

For being infringed upon like this, H'aerindu had every reason to be agitated and sought for an opportunity to remove the ring from her finger as the floor grew increasingly thick with bloodied corpses to the point she and a shrinking pool of crazed combatants wound up using it as a part of the floor whenever the grim necessity arose.

It was naught but a slaughter that persisted until only one enemy remained. Unlike the rest, however, it seemed to have regained its senses as it did not mindlessly try to attack her like all the others. Fear remained in its gaze and posture, but was tempered by a certain presence of mind.

 _Those aren't bad eyes..._ H'aerindu appraised silently in its self-enforced calm and contemplation on how to proceed, clearly thinking, and was about to rush at it when the orc discarded its crooked sword and flexed its hands. So ridiculous the sight was that she flashed at it a bright grin, which the beastman clearly did not know what to make heads or tails of.

Also different from the rest of its kind was the choice to wait for her to make the first move, which wasn't bad a decision per se.

"Come at me," the orc growled at her, "and I'll feast on your entrails!"

 _Way to go ruining a beautiful moment..._ H'aerindu mentally drooped, though the smile remained on her even as her tail continued to swish rapidly in abject irritation. "Okay." the Monk said while she against silent protests removed the ring, having finally found the opportunity to do so, and stowed it back in the pocket from where it leaped. "Let's see how you hold up."

The orc appeared somehow confused by her decision to put the Ring away, but its posture gained in firmness as hers did.

"Don't get overconfident, now." H'aerindu warned as she raised her coeurl-coated dukes and after a quick dash shot both forward in a double-jab. To this, the orc reacted by consciously easing up its footing at the same time as it instinctively raised both hands to catch the beast-like effigy that was on the way to its face. It clearly intended to make an attempt to ride on the blow.

 _Not bad, orc, but this is my win..._ H'aerindu smirked as she carried out a quick forward adjustment of her stance and landed the jab delivered with her other arm hard enough into its stomach to send it flying, eyes wide in shock.

She did not hit too hard, and expected a second go until an arrow stabbed cleanly through its skull from the side while the creature was in midair – killing it instantly. An excellent shot, though she could not find it in her to appreciate how abruptly this one of a kind orc was cut short.

"That punch held within it less power than the preceding ones..."

H'aerindu craned her neck and found a tall orc dressed in heavy armor upon the spectator stands who went on to drop down to face her, an act followed immediately by the removal of its helmet, revealing to her surprise a dark-maned male hyur with a stubble whose eyes radiated a sort of age the rest of his handsome face did not. The brunette was about to ask the first question to come to mind when he continued to speak.

"It's good to see you still hold the fortitude to remove the ring, at least," the man said as he came to loom over her, "though I'd advise you to rid yourself of it at the earliest opportunity before that change."

"A ring, you say?" she folded her arms and tried to scoff even as she withdrew a step, somehow intimidated by this looming male though this was far from the first time someone towered over her, "I was merely holding back on that last guy."

He shook his head, "Lying will do you no good, lass."

Two more strangers appeared thereafter, their helmets still on. The manner with which they paced indicated that they too weren't orcs. "You have naught to gain by denying it." the taller of them spoke mildly, "Strider has better eyes than most men, and keener judgment besides."

"Oh polish him off some more, why don't you?" the more dainty one remarked with an implied roll of her eyes, "I won't pretend to know what's going on here all of a sudden, but you best fork the thing over before the boys get testy."

"Try it." H'aerindu applied a dangerous edge to her voice, not about to let an artifact of such importance be taken by people she knew nothing of.

The tall one stepped in and placed a gauntleted hand on the short comrade's shoulder, "Easy now. Our purpose here is not to fight her."

"Indeed." Strider provided a slight tilt of his head, "Legolas and I, along with Dagasi here, infiltrated the orcs for the sole purpose of putting down their Warlord. That we happened to come across you, and _it_ , was by tremendous happenstance – a twist of fate. Now tell me, how in the world did an item of such infamy and evil wind up in your hands?"

"I wasn't the one who found it." the Monk said, recognizing the taller stranger's name from her grandmother's book, "My grandmother and a friend of hers did... She took it here to protect him from being corrupted further by its influence."

"And your reason for holding it now?"

"These orcs intend to attack Ishgard according to an Ixal who came to warn us, and I deduced the reason for it was to take the Ring from my grandma who's currently there. I brought the ring to make sure the orcs wouldn't go there."

"And so the last piece fall into place." Legolas discarded his helmet and applied an index finger to his chin in a contemplative manner, "It all makes sense now, but that opens up for a worrisome possibility."

"The Nine." Strider agreed.

"...How about we worry about trouble of the more immediate sort?" Dagasi expressed apprehensively as she peered down the path, "Like that horde of orcs coming at us from around the bend?"

H'aerindu blinked and half-turned at that bit of heads-up and gazed upon a company broad as the path upon which they marched. It held not a veneer of implacability except in number, though, due to the lack of change in equipment from those she just fought. But equipment aside, these orcs appeared as little more than a mob.

"Aye, it appears we must postpone our talk till a later time." Strider spoke as he strode to stand beside her with the long blade held against his right shoulder. "Do make sure not to lose the Ring from your pocket again."

"How about you hold onto it if you worry so much?" H'aerindu shot back.

Strider blanched at the very notion. "A fair idea, but alas my friend here," Legolas interjected on his behalf as he joined them, "hold little confidence in his ability to withstand its corrupting influence."

"I see. How about you, then?"

The elf shook his head, "I would prefer to not even gaze upon it."

Dagasi was about to voice her thought on the subject when the orcs decided to forget about maintaining their formation and at a holler from one further in the back broke ranks and rushed with swords drawn, baying for blood. One of them fell back promptly with the shaft of an arrow sticking out of its left eye, courtesy of Legolas who already nocked another one, "Woman, a spell like the one you performed earlier would be of help."

"It's H'aerindu, and no." the miqo'te refused as she took a step, eyes on the advancing horde as it closed the gap, "I believe I'll do something less taxing..." then burst forward to where the soil started and with a mass of aether channeled to the sole of her right foot and stomped powerfully, cracking the ground for a distance ahead where the orcs stumbled and fell over one another. From there it took only a moment for a large groaning pile of limbs to form.

There came a brief pause after that, but it ended momentarily as Strider and Dagasi raced past her alongside another arrow that went on to bury itself into the skull of an orc who yelled for the toppled first lines to get up.

"Are you still there, Alphinaud?" she whispered.

"I am." he whispered in return, sounding thoughtful, "Continue onward with these new compatriots of yours. I shall have my familiar remain here for now and give you advance warning for when the Ixali army approach."

"Understood." H'aerindu replied and entered the melee.

 _OoOoO_

The aetheryte of Tapaxoli was unlike any other seen by orcish eyes. It was crude in make, unbalanced to the eye, and barely seemed to hold itself together. No indication existed that it has ever been touched by a skilled craftsman, yet it would serve their needs all the same. Bolg's face was contorted in a deep frown as he watched the preparations being made while the troops assembled to delay the she-cat fought noisily in the distance – most of whom amounted to little but expendable thugs. Dumb brutes with not an ounce of discipline nor wit to their name who would never pick up on the fact that the mission to Ishgard held for most of them no means of retreat before it's too late – if it occurred to them at all.

Bolg cared not one whit if every last one of them perished, and glared steelily as one of the fleet's largest Cetus slowly descended toward the aetheryte while carrying underneath it a large crown-shaped mass of red crystal fashioned for a sole purpose.

Several of Captain Morlog's subordinates milled about underneath it and held long spears complete with cutting blades and waited for the crown to be brought just on top of the aetheryte before they upon the Captain's order used these to sever the ropes so the crystalline crown could settle in, allowing the now unburdened Cetus to withdraw.

No sooner did it do so before the blue and red crystals crackled at one another in a distinct tone of disharmony.

"The crown has been set, Warlord." Captain Morlog declared, "Now all that remains is to send a runner through and pray the connection is stable."

"Do it." Bolg grumbled and held out a parchment, "Give him the message to Smaug and send him through."

His subordinate accepted it and nodded, "Of course, Warlord." before he ran to the only orc who remained at the aetheryte's base as the others withdrew. The runner snapped a salute as the parchment was passed on and followed the order promptly as he departed in a distasteful glimmer of light.

Now they could only wait.

"Warlord!"

Bolg looked up as a griffin landed not far from him, whose rider looked onto him with anxiety. "Speak!" he growled.

"A great host of bird men approach, Warlord!" the rider – a scout – reported, "They are almost at the base of the mountain!"

"Now?" Bolg's glare sharpened, "Why do I hear of this only now!?"

"I know not, Warlord... Only that I cannot seem to find the others!"

"What do you mean you can't find them?"

"Gone, Warlord." the rider shrieked, "There are no sign of them anywhere!"

Bolg's lips curled at this information. "Perfect." he bitterly growled, "Go find Lieutenant Gamon and tell him he is to hasten the fleet's launch! I care not if the beasts need to eat and rest, I want them in the air now!"

The rider shrank back and urged his mount to take off, "Y-yes, Warlord! At once!"

Resentful and annoyed, Bolg watched the griffin shoot away from the platform and tightened the hold on his mace. The birdman army was unexpected, but nothing to worry about. The fleet and Smaug combined would be more than a match for the lowly creatures. No matter what, the victory will be his.

 _OoOoO_

 _I think I'll do something less taxing, she said..._ Aragorn snorted in well-concealed amusement, wondering privately what kind of leg strength was required to make the ground crack like that as he deftly severed the head from an orc's shoulders, and then with no loss of precision redirected the swing to plunge his sword through the chest of the next in line, only for yet another one to jump in and its place.

There seemed to be no end to the horde.

Aragorn knew well how large an army the Warlord attached to its air fleet... but such information meant little given the numbers stacked against the four of them as they struggled to push straight through it in the knowledge that they cannot possibly grind them all down at once. A grueling situation to be sure, but one not entirely advantageous to the orcs.

Overwhelming force, after all, has its own set of drawbacks.

Fratricide for instance was inevitable in cramped conditions like this. Even as they entered a larger area beyond the narrow path the orcs continued to run one another down, and many more died as they were, by accident or not, pushed off the edge – right alongside those who toppled on their own unintended accord.

All the rest which allowed them to push through along a narrow line came down to a noticeable gap in skill. It seemed these orcs were given precious little in the way of training, which did not make much sense for the mission at hand unless their lives were meant to be thrown away from the start.

Aragorn mentally noted this as they continued to cut a swathe through the largely unarmored orcs, and in so doing steadily increased the tally of bodies left behind for other orcs to stumble on. Time seemed to blend together like it was wont to do as this action continued unabated, the orcs trying to close in at a constant rate.

That being noted, he made sure to look for his comrades whenever he found a speck of a moment to do it. Legolas since early on in their advance decided to conserve arrows and took up a wooden pole with which he through the use of his innate agility struck orcs aside. Dagasi meanwhile kept her posture very low and slipped through any number of foes to ease their passage by cutting every tendon she could reach, pausing only when the opportunities came to apply deep stabs into the chests of those beasts who fell underneath the crowd.

H'aerindu, meanwhile, did the same as Aragorn and like a force of nature waded at the forefront to add ever more broken bodies to this rocky patch of open ground with those heavy blows of hers, pausing only to exclaim, "Don't let up! Push!" and span to deal such a powerful heel kick to the most immediately present orc's gut that it flew and bowled over many others.

"Save your breath, girl!" he shouted between breaths, "We—"

Aragorn just barely finished the latest syllable when an intense burst of light erupted from the middle of town, bright enough in its intensity to momentarily blind all who stood within view of it. Whatever was the cause of that, it made the battle come to a screeching halt as everyone shielded their eyes. "What in the world is that?" he heard Dagasi ask, sounding deeply perturbed.

The answer came soon enough as the shining light shrank, dimmed, coalesced, and grew into a gigantic reptilian visage draped in black armor thick as the wall of a fortress. Horror took hold in Aragorn's heart as a dragon absolutely massive in proportion completed its materialization into this world and in its moment of triumph released a terrible elated bellow that by just volume alone made the land tremble.

"Is that... who I think it is?" H'aerindu asked, the voice thin in astonishment, as she too stared up at it.

"Indeed." Legolas confirmed, gritting his teeth, "It's Smaug!"

Aragorn hissed in a low tune, "These orcs have gone and called Smaug to battle!? H'aerindu, he has likely come for that which you bear!"

The miqo'te huffed, "It would probably go after me even if I did not have the twelve-cursed ring in my possession. That being said, we should split up from here."

"Split up?"

"You guys go get Bolg. I in the meantime will be on my best bait behavior until things get truly hectic."

" _How?_ " Legolas asked at the absurdity of what she suggested.

The brunette shot him a sharp look, "There's no time to explain! Take the zip-line ahead of here and swiftly go do what you must before the dragon approach!"

 _OoOoO_

 _Hydaelyn, at last!_

Smaug hissed in elation as he hovered in place over these new unfamiliar lands, its jagged landscape a fair match for his temperament after all these decades of wait for the opportunity to do what he so sought in order to get his revenge on the dwarves and lakemen for insults and injuries sustained. Here he would erect a draconic army the likes of which has not been seen since the War of Wrath.

First, however, he must aid in the orcs' quest to retrieve Sauron's precious ring.

According to the messenger sent to inform him about the state of readiness for his transference, its present holder currently stand upon the speck of mountain terrain up ahead. It did not take him even a moment to find her, and let his eyes be widened by the resemblance to the one who wronged and ultimately had him maimed so severely he was forced to don this ridiculous suit of armor.

Eager to end this one, Smaug spread the wings and advanced with all of his fury.

"Rise warriors!" Warlord Bolg bellowed irately, waking up all the orcs who had stopped fighting to instead stare upon Smaug's magnificence, "Strike down our foes!"

After a moment of hesitation the mass of orc bodies reoriented themselves and in a bout of reawakened fury turned on the intruders, both the she-cat and those who left her behind – all of whom fought back just as readily, if not more so.

The intruders were separated, surrounded, and hideously outnumbered. They were trapped in the most disadvantageous situation imaginable far as mundane conditions go, yet the orcs are the ones being slaughtered as the intruders demonstrated skills far exceeding those of their far more plentiful adversaries. It mattered not how many orcs perished in the attempt, however. Smaug only cared to get this done with a bare minimum of effort.

If a hundred orcs have to die to wear her down, then so be it.

The she-cat held nothing back as she withdrew step by step, upending an orc with a harsh backhand to the head while she at the same time struck a knee into the chest of another and caved it in completely.

Smaug was almost there when a horde of orcs suddenly rushed out from the cave, much to Warlord Bolg's elation. The messenger told him all forces within the mountain have been wiped out. That most certainly did not seem to be the case.

"Yes!" the orc boomed gleefully, "Strike at her from both sides, draw this to a close now!"

Said approval proceeded to die in his throat when most the newly arrived force ignored the she-cat and sank swords and spears alike into the flesh of their comrades with murderous looks in their crazed eyes. Even Smaug was surprised as the battle turned to complete chaos. Confusion took hold of those who beheld this sudden infighting, and comprehension did not dawn as a force of heavily armed Ixal poured from the cave entrance in the errant orcs' wake to the barely veiled delight of every enslaved Ixal who was in a position to watch.

And as to the she-cat he was supposed to take down... she was nowhere in sight.

 _OoOoO_

Bolg had no words to describe the absurdity before him. For so many subordinates to engage in such flagrant insubordination and betrayal in favor of lower creatures in direct view of their superior was unheard of. If ever there existed a similar event in history, it happened so distantly in the past that no one thought it would ever happen again.

 _How much must go wrong before this is over?!_ Bolg petulantly growled in frustration, and grew more so when it became apparent that Smaug has lost track of the intruder amid the chaos.

The only reason his mood did not grow even worse was because elements of his fleet finally came about to rise in their multitude from the city below. All as one, led on by Lieutenant Gamon, they made for the battle, only to be intercepted like the army was when all of the scouts reported missing earlier suddenly erupted from around the mountain.

And among them was an entity whose furious cackles reverberated across the settlement as she – its figure was decidedly female – with a sharp beat of her four wings threw many griffin riders off their mounts, and yet more when the projected wave of wind blossomed into whirlwinds of terrifying strength that twisted and turned through the fleet.

The turncoats numbered far less than his own forces, but the entity effortlessly turned the growing battle to her advantage.

"Wyrm! Landwalkers!" it cried in a shrill tone of indignation, "Such blasphemy, to intrude upon the lands of my children! Prostrate and beg for forgiveness, else I shall see you slain to the last!"

"Who are you to presume..." Smaug, white-hot in his anger, turned the sheer enormity of his bulk to the feathery entity, the difference in size such that he utterly dwarfed her, "to speak of me as though I, Smaug the Destroyer, am your lesser?"

"Ah but thou art indeed a mere wyrm who has the temerity to challenge a god, _Smaug._ " the entity giggled mockingly, not at all intimidated, "Little more than a fat morsel bloated with aether. I, Garuda, shall feast on it and grow stronger!"

Such a blunt challenge made in the complete absence of fear and consideration was more than Smaug could take as he reared back, "Worthless creature! I will teach you pain beyond your imagining!" and from his agape maw unleashed upon the much smaller being a hateful burst of flames.

Garuda did not flinch, she grinned eagerly and in a show of agility and her power over the winds dodged the attack before she went on to swoop around him while further empowering the rampant gales that already rippled across the city. A full storm was underway, and in the middle of it the two fought while the armies of their respective sides raged around them.

At this point, Bolg averted his eyes. No longer could he stand to watch things degenerate to what was now the only logical conclusion. Whether Smaug emerged victorious or not, his forces would at this rate be far too damaged to do anything but withdraw to Sky Base. This failure would see him dead for sure, and he would never get the chance to avenge his father's death.

In his impotent fury he gripped the mace of his so tightly it was on the verge of breaking, until a fight suddenly broke out around the Aetheryte. Bolg turned to face it just in time to see Captain Morlog's eyes glaze over as he crumpled into a heap before a group of three, one of whom he in his irritation knew all too well.

 _OoOoO_

Finally.

After a hurried trek through use of the many zip-lines that crisscrossed this city of Tapaxoli, Legolas and his companions finally reached the place where Warlord Bolg stood in apparent loss over how chaotic this situation has gotten. He has not in all his centuries seen its like either, but in his mind it took a backseat now as he extended an open hand to his left, "Dagasi, I would have my weapons back."

"Sure." Dagasi deftly presented the long knives handle-first into his palms.

Legolas thanked her and drew them as he approached his enemy, "Bolg, son of Azog."

"Princeling of the Woodland realm." Bolg replied in turn, snarling, "You must be a great fool to seek a continuation to our confrontation in these conditions."

"I care not for your pet disaster. We have unsettled business between us and I will see it concluded here!"

"Noted. You will make an able object upon which I vent my frustration!" Bolg growled as he brandished his mace, "I will see you crushed!"

Legolas took the appropriate stance, smiling grimly, "You are welcome to try, beast."

After a pause in which they locked eyes and stared one another down they closed the gap and clashed with all the weight of their respective emotional states and determination, where Bolg demonstrated quickly that its skill at arms has not diminished in the least as it drove the mace at his chest at such speed that Legolas had to put both knives in place to parry it, followed quickly by a harsh tackle where the orc took one of the few remaining arrows from his quiver and tried to stab him with it.

Legolas only barely managed to twist himself away and in the following spin cut the proffered arrow in half before he closed in again, deflected another swing along a slanted arc so the mace went over his head and neatly dealt two shallow cuts upon the orc's chest and one at its right arm.

There was not much a response to these injuries as Bolg once again swung his heavy weapon, only with both arms this time to add more weight to its blow. Legolas took a step back to avoid it, only to be knocked even further away as Bolg stopped its swing at the last moment and struck the weapon head-first against his shoulder.

It did not break the skin, but it bruised and hurt for sure!

Legolas fell on his back, and Bolg leaped at him with its mace held high, forcing the elf to momentarily forget about attacking and hastily rolled to the side so the heavy weapon broke the floor instead, braced himself, then with a leg he promptly raised delivered a sharp axe kick to the orc's wrist to force it to drop the mace before he swiftly rose and with a reverse-gripped blade made a quick swipe for the orc's throat.

Bolg did not let that be the end of it as it ducked underneath the blow, and retrieved its weapon before it attacked again and forced Legolas back once more.

Like he remembered from their previous confrontations, Bolg was not an easy adversary to best. Rather than be discouraged, however, the knowledge fanned Legolas' spirit and urged him to persist and persevere. A grim smile crossed the elf's lips as he halted in his withdrawal and advanced.

 _OoOoO_

 _Well, this sure is a fine mess we're in..._

H'aerindu considered the ongoing madness as she with a healthy amount of haste paced through the gates of Tapaxoli, searching for a suitable zip-line that would bring her to where the others have gone to. There was one close to where she lured Smaug that would have let her cross a fairly large part of the distance involved here, but she decided it was far too exposed to safely use given the nature of what she was up against. Instead she dipped her posture low and darted into the city proper while the dragon was captivated by the developing chaos.

And the rest, as they say, was history.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Alphinaud whispered into her ear, his voice thick with worry, "Even going by what little we can see from over here, it's hard to believe anyone can come out of that lunacy unscathed!"

"I'm fine." H'aerindu softly assured, rolling her eyes all the while. _I swear, Alphinaud can be such a mother hen..._

The boy did not sound very convinced, "Very well, then... I suppose you have a plan in order?"

She pondered the question briefly, "To begin with I came here to dismantle a threat. Now the Ixal and my new friends are doing what's left of it for me. All that remains is to fend off Smaug, somehow, and slay Garuda, again."

"As I recall, you have beaten many large dragons."

"This is somewhat different. We have here a creature over four hundred fulms in length who wears a full suit of armor not unlike the hull of a battleship in terms of thickness, and apparently has an easily bruised ego the size of the Abalathian Spine. There is nowhere he can land around here, and a lot of locals who cannot run away due to being locked in cages. If we mishandle this or leave him alone, he might very well go on a rampage."

"I see." Alphinaud sounded pained.

"What happened to your familiar by the way?"

"Gone. Couldn't keep it safe when things really went off the deep end. That said—"

"Wait." Alisaie interjected, "There's an airship approaching from the west..."

"An airship?" H'aerindu was perplexed, and did not even react at first as a trio of combatants suddenly burst in front of her, made up of an Ixali lancer and two orcish swordsmen. She watched in idle curiosity as the lancer squawked and ran its – she was unsure of the Ixal's gender – spear through the gut of one orc then the second in a rapid flurry of thrusts. _The battle has already spread this far, huh..._

The Ixal bellowed in victory, then became aware of the Monk and screeched accordingly, "Squawrk... enemy of our goddess! Make you bleed, Taril will!" as it wheeled about and charged at her to do the same as it did onto the orcs.

H'aerindu frowned, and in swift succession placed the back of her left hand against the spearhead and brushed it aside so Taril would fall past her, then at the last moment knocked him out with a quick chop to his neck. "Can you identify it?" she continued immediately after the beastman crumpled.

"I don't recognize it." Alisaie admitted, "It is closing in, and... It's firing!"

Which explained why something suddenly struck Smaug's chest armor in a clamor of clashing metal and detonated with terrific force. It was no more than a pinprick, but it drew Smaug's ire all the same before several additional munitions landed in a protracted salvo where he at the last moment displayed a surprising feat of agility and dodged several rounds. Garuda who had managed to remain untouched for the entirety of their duel was caught by surprise when one of the missed munitions detonated close to the Primal and knocked her away.

Garuda screeched in outrage and confusion as she span uncontrollably in the relative direction of where the dragon came from, which meant her new friends might be in imminent danger.

H'aerindu wasted no time and ran until she found in the middle of this jungle of stilted platforms and walkways a rounded plaza complete with an Aetheryte and an elaborate hut of presumed importance. But whether it belonged to someone important or existed as a town hall after a fashion, all that mattered was the large hole punched through its roof.

And near the landing site, a bloody and bruised Legolas engaged in a heated duel with the equally injured Warlord Bolg, while Strider and Dagasi stood to the side and kept guard so the orc would not escape via the Aetheryte. None of them gave much of an indication of having noticed the Primal aside from that _something_ crashed close to their position.

Which to be fair was a fair enough supposition given how bodies of griffins and their riders alike have been tumbling from the stormful sky like rain, except that mistaking Garuda for a downed griffin can only end badly.

Unless she intervene, that is.

Not about to let them be caught unawares, she made a mad dash for the nearest zip-line connected to the plaza.

 _OoOoO_

Legolas did not think to even think to staunch the bleeding from his shallow wounds as he continued to resolutely stand in opposition to Bolg who was determined to drag him down with it. Repeatedly did they clash, and not once has a blow landed to deal a mortal wound.

It was to be expected. There would have been no point to this duel if it had been easy. Legolas was soundly beaten by this orc when they fought in Esgaroth, and wanted no more than to settle the score and prove himself the better combatant of the two, which was the personal reason for why he pursued the Warlord so feverishly over all these years.

To catch the orc before advanced age takes too much of a toll on it, which it certainly has. Bolg remained strong, but age has taken away a fair portion of its stamina as was shown clearly by how heavily the orc breathed from the exertion of their duel. Their fight would not last for much longer at this rate.

Legolas sharpened his senses and silently reengaged the aging Warlord in what could surely be their final clash when suddenly a shock wave washed over them as the nearby hut burst apart to reveal the entity who he thought was still engaged in a death match with Smaug.

To say she was less than amused was to understate the extremely irate expression she now wore, which hardened as she became aware of them.

"More landwalkers!" Garuda hissed, grinding her teeth, "Defilers, I will see you leap to oblivion!"

With a whip of her four wings and elongated arms she unleashed from over her shoulder a whirlwind of dazzling blue that advanced with a clear intent to swallow them up in it. Legolas had no idea as to what purpose it served, but Dagasi's reaction was a yell of undisguised fear as she tried to flee before H'aerindu suddenly arrived by zip-line, pushed through them, and reached out to the wind like she intended to push it away.

It met the woman's palms without delay and in a spectacular manner was scattered across a wide arc.

"Youuuuuuu—!" Garuda ceased the attack and screamed at her in vehement hatred.

"So glad you noticed." H'aerindu quipped dryly, "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to break you now."

Apparently this threat held a lot of water, because Garuda's immediate reaction to it was to urgently attempt to build up a safe distance between them. The Monk's follow-up was to dash and hop onto a stick of what remained of the collapsed hut's framework and used it to jump and grab hold of Garuda's left ankle. Unprepared to keep both herself and another aloft they descended to the floor onto which H'aerindu promptly slammed the entity in a hiss of effort.

"Y-you dare—!?" Garuda cursed bitterly and tried to rise anew.

"I'd have thought you'd know me by now." H'aerindu said as she went on to straddle Garuda's chest, placed both knees onto her arms and grabbed the entity by her neck before she equipped a sphairai into her remaining free limb and held it high, "Of course I dare!"

Immediately in the wake of this declaration, her weapon began to radiate a golden flame that gained tremendously in strength and intensity, surging till a couple of aetherial chains popped into place and strained as if to keep the blazing energy in check. Garuda's furious expression collapsed in the face of this into a mask of naked fear, flailing and attempting to throw off the woman who pinned her down so firmly, "A-aghhh... W-wait!"

H'aerindu was not amused, "How many of your slaves pleaded for your mercy before you rendered them bereft of their own thoughts, Garuda?!" and in a collision of tremendous power landed a blow that seemed to come down with the weight of a mountain behind it as it smashed Garuda's head into the floor, cratered it, spread cracks across the plaza, and caused the hurricane to fade away from the city like a candle before a raging furnace – which he presumed came from the sudden halt to Garuda's concentration.

In the wake of this spectacle came a massed screech of fanatical outrage from the Ixali army as they grew to realize what just happened.

Garuda barely managed to gasp, "C-curse you… landwalker..." before she succumbed to the sheer trauma inflicted and – starting with the head – dissipated into an aetheric cloud that lingered in hateful defiance then faded altogether.

"Oh, oh..." Dagasi exhaled as her legs gave away from the relief, "W-we survived..."

Legolas did not feel likewise, though it was only because Bolg suddenly landed its mace squarely on his side and sent him careening into the Aetheryte's socket where he like a sack of hammers slumped into place and watched dazedly as the elderly Warlord rushed toward the brunette who in apparent exhaustion had yet to rise. "W-wait!" he tried to exclaim, and was equally dismayed and disgusted by how it came out as a strangled cough alongside a small amount of his blood. Dagasi woke from her momentary stupor of overwhelming relief and urgently took him into her arms while shouting something he could not clearly hear, while Aragorn tossed him a look of abject concern before he ran in pursuit of Bolg who was very nearly on top of the she-cat.

 _OoOoO_

The duel meant nothing anymore.

Just like the elf, Bolg had stared as the female crushed the entity even Smaug had difficulty dealing with... until he decided to act on the distraction – and the opportunity – she inadvertently provided. Rabidly he struck the elf aside and made a run for the female who still remained in place and sweated from every pore.

In this he viewed an opportunity, and in the last step dropped his mace to instead take the female into his arms. With an arm wrapped firmly round her neck he turned so they came to face the one combatant who pursued him, "Remove yourselves from the Aetherite, or I'll wring her neck!"

The man frowned, "You aim to take her with you."

 _She_ _and the ring both..._ "Away with you!" the Warlord growled threateningly, "You would not wish for her to be harmed, do you?!"

Now that the female appeared to have finally weakened, he hoped to take her away to where she can be simply disposed of. This female's corpse would make a fine gift to his Master alongside his precious Ring of Power. Bolg inwardly smirked as ambition played in his head, for surely the Master would place him in a higher position in spite of the recent failures.

That was at least his hope until the lower ribs and organs of his collapsed in a brutal fashion when the woman he thought was finally weak enough for him to take rammed her left elbow into his gut, knocking out all the air he had in him. "H-how?" he barely managed to breathe, "Y-you were..."

She glared out the corner of her eyes, "… Just catching my breath." and freed herself from his grasp, then span and doled out a jaw-shattering uppercut that knocked him senselessly so he had no control over his faculties as he fell past the edge and dropped limply into the mists below till he knew no more.

 _OoOoO_

H'aerindu solemnly watched as Bolg fell from sight, and did not stop till it became overly clear no griffin would race down to save the orc – not even its own which rested without a care on a nearby platform. A tired sigh was released from her lips and she turned to Strider who relaxed somewhat as he took a step closer.

"Are you well, H'aerindu?"

"Couple of scratches, but I'm more worried about your friend."

The reason was quite obvious as Legolas did not look like he was doing too well where he leaned into the clearly worried Dagasi's embrace. Accordingly, the grim-faced Strider was soon back at his side.

Not about to be inactive here, H'aerindu joined them while she reached into a pocket on the left side of her fringe boots and plucked from it a green-tinted bottle she then held out to the swordsman, "Have him drink this. It should be enough to handle the worst."

Strider hesitated for an instant before he wordlessly accepted it, popped the bottle, and had Dagasi support his friend properly so he could have him drink its contents. The potion's effect was immediate as Legolas grew less pale and some of his bruises receded. Observing this, Strider made sure his friend drank all of it. "Mellon," he whispered, "How are you feeling?"

"Ugh..." Legolas blinked at the partial recovery, "Better, though it'll take far more than that to heal my pride."

"Bolg was meant to be my kill..." he continued.

H'aerindu awkwardly scratched the back of her head, "Sorry about that. Things just turned out that way."

"To be fair, you did go and let yourself get distracted in the midst of a fight to the death..." Dagasi gave Legolas a resigned pout, "That said, can we quit this place now?"

"Hm." the Monk raised her shoulders and shrugged, "Feel free to. I for one can't before the dragon's taken care of..."

"About that." Legolas murmured as he looked to the sky, "I have not seen or heard of Smaug for a while."

"... Huh?" H'aerindu checked the sky and found only remnants of the orc fleet who struggled to reorganize themselves now that the storm was at an end. Smaug on the other hand was entirely absent, which struck her as odd given the behavior he so readily exhibited. She touched the linkpearl, "Alphinaud, I've just taken care of Garuda, but in so doing lost track of Smaug. Did the dragon by any chance give chase to that airship?"

"Actually," the boy did not hesitate; "on the contrary, Smaug fled soon after the _Protector_ engaged him."

She quirked a brow, recognizing the name for Ishgard's only large scale airship, "Why?"

"Let us say he did not seem to take the airship narrowing its fire onto the links in his armor with much grace. I suppose he had no desire to have the guns put to use on his old wounds."

H'aerindu frowned, remembering that Smaug was injured quite severely in her grandmother's book. Consequently, the reason he wore a full armor was because the coat of scales was no longer adequate for his protection, "That does make sense."

"Quite." the boy tersely quipped, "Having said that, I bear a message from Ser Aymeric."

"Let me hear it, then." she replied when the Auri Ninja suddenly exclaimed in abundant frustration and disbelief. It did not take long to figure out why.

 _OoOoO_

"Who is she speaking to?" Strider asked, the man finding ever more to be bewildered about, "There is no one there."

Dagasi rolled her eyes impatiently, "She's using a linkpearl to commune with someone distant – presumably the arcanist whose familiar we saw earlier. Now would you please lend a hand so we can get out of here?"

The reason for her urgency was apparent enough as the battle moved ever closer to the plaza. With the orcs largely leaders gone and their numbers devastated, the Ixali fanatics are pushing them back on all fronts. Even the multitude of griffin riders are being picked off, unable to regroup and recover the initiative in the face of the many archers and fogcallers who are continuously riddling them with arrows and wind-aspected spellcraft, adding ever more bodies to the misty depths.

Strider did not argue and with an arm wrapped around the torso pulled Legolas onto his feet so they all faced the Aetheryte. "Where shall we go?" he asked.

"Ishgard would be nice." Dagasi whispered as she reached out to the only thing between them and safety, only to find it to be no mere obstacle. To begin with the shoddy construct did not appear to be at all trustworthy, and the mentioned lack of quality was not helped by the crown-like crystal formation which purity left much to be desired. "Shit!"

The function of the crown was made abundantly clear soon as she made contact. It provided a focus through which to facilitate transference between this world and the other, which she supposed was required for that huge-ass dragon to cross over, but in return… "Damn it all!" Dagasi withdrew her hand as if scalded.

"What does appear to be the problem?" H'aerindu asked, taking her attention from the one she communicated with.

She let slip the foulest curse she knew, "This Aetheryte's no good! It is on the verge of falling apart from the strain."

"With such mismatched components, that's no surprise."

"Tell me something I don't know..." Dagasi groaned despondently, "It's just… I had my hopes up high here."

"If we cannot use it, we have little choice but to make for the exit." Strider considered what choices they have, "Or..."

"Or we can board the airship presently on its way to the northern outskirts." H'aerindu offered an alternative, smiling sheepishly, "And before you say anything, the option was just thrown onto my lap."

The stubbly man hummed, "I was about to suggest we depart on the beast we rode in on, but that works too."

"Quite." Legolas heartily agreed, having absolutely no love for the Cetus, before a war horn – deep and forlorn – was suddenly sounded. The elf's ears twitched ominously, "Now let us make haste, for if I am not mistaken the bird men will soon be in need of more victims to slake their lust for blood..."

It did not even take them a moment to learn why as what remained of the orc fleet wheeled away from the battle, closely followed by all troops in position to flee back to the Cetus that carried them here. A cry of exultation rose from the Ixal, many of whom commenced pursuit while others – whoever not busy killing those of the orcs who could not disengage – began freeing the slaves. Others let their shared attention bloated with murderous intention wander, and found the plaza quite crowded with yet more landwalkers to kill.

Legolas continued succinctly, "Run."

 _OoOoO_

When Gandalf learned of what H'aerindu committed herself to hours past, his reaction amounted to a fit of vexation. Not once in his eternally long life did it ever occur to him that such recklessness could exist in any world. Determined thus to follow, he was well pleased with Ser Aymeric's swift decision to embark on an expedition with the lending of support to her endeavor as the goal.

Hasty in his preparation, the Lord Commander extended an invitation as he assembled as large a crew as he could muster on close notice – which included a gaggle of adventurers he brought in to fill the spots he could not fill with his fellow countrymen.

Once the crew was completed, he brought them to the _Protector_ , which was in Gandalf's esteem truly a marvel of engineering – for in all of the history of Middle-Earth, only the blessed ship Vingilot could reasonably be considered an airship. It served well until the war's end where it with Eãrendil at its prow sailed into the sky where it through the silmaril that guided it became the Morning Star.

The _Protector_ held not within it the radiance and majesty of the Vingilot, but it was impressive nonetheless.

It also crossed the distance between its moor in the bewildering Sea of Clouds and the jagged landscape of Xelphatol within a commendable time-frame, where they found a stilted city in colossal upheaval not helped by the presence of Smaug and a scintillating entity who fought furiously among themselves in the middle of a decidedly unnatural hurricane that seemed to embrace Tapaxoli alone.

Needless to say many among the crew were shocked by the display.

"This…" Aymeric had voiced in horror, "this is worse than I feared. Lookouts, do you see her?!"

Shortly after it was ascertained that the Warrior of Light was present and at good health in spite of the carnage around her. The Lord Commander was not interested in seeing it turn anywhere worse, though, and ordered an alpha strike on the dragon which dominated the sky with his sheer bulk through the use of three pairs of quadruple-barreled weapons that were taken on board prior to launch and chained to the deck.

Gandalf watched in fascination as the weapons were noisily discharged and after a moment's lapse covered Smaug's armored chest and the air around him in violent blossoms of fire and smoke. The effect of it was meek, and led him to conclude it'd work more splendidly against hordes of orcs.

Smaug forgot about his prior opponent at that instant, and labored to close in at great speed to render the airship a descending pile of rubble until Gandalf gave the suggestion to aim for the links in his armor, which had a far greater effect upon the humongous wyrm who pulled away after a couple of quick salvos that came dangerously close to dislodging his chest and shoulder armor.

Not willing to risk such firepower upon his body, the dragon balked at the continued engagement and withdrew due north-west.

Where the dragon intended to fly was anybody's guess.

Aymeric was less than bothered about that particular subject at the moment and dedicated himself briefly to a correspondence via linkpearl – another thing Gandalf found to be of interest – and ordered the airship to effect a docking procedure at the stilted city's northern edge. A decision followed immediately by the blowing of a horn Gandalf recognized well.

"What's that sound?" queried one of the adventurers Aymeric recruited for this endeavor, a female lalafell clad in a white robe.

"That is a call to retreat." Gandalf spared the time to inform as he gazed into the distance and found on a distant mountaintop a small group of creatures who rode atop mighty griffins. It took a great deal of squinting to recognize them, but he managed to discern a few orcs, and two hooded creatures he suspected to be of the Nine. Several theories occurred to Gandalf as to why they were apart from the main force.

The most likely possibility was that they were scouting out Ishgard while waiting for the fleet to come until they chose to return, a decision likely tied to H'aerindu's own decision to bring the ring to Tapaxoli.

However, they arrived far too late and ultimately determined that to persecute a battle where the whole command structure has collapsed was to court folly.

Consequently, as the orcs pulled out, the Warrior of Light needed only to contend with the Ixal till the airship arrive to evacuate her. Gandalf hoped she would arrive unharmed, for there are many choice words he wanted to deliver onto her for the recklessness she embarked on. A stern talking-to was more than due in his estimate.

"Extend the plank once in position." Ser Aymeric called out as they neared an outlying hut, eyes fixed on the roiling hordes of beaked creatures who eagerly hurled increasingly biologically improbable obscenities and curses to the wind at the same time as they threw a collection of spears, shot arrows, and cast spells in pursuit of a small group who hurried to the aforementioned hut at a dead sprint. "Starboard cannons, ninety degrees south!"

The order was followed in a few huffs of exertion from the gun crews.

"Put them to the Ixal, push them back!" the lord commander ordered fiercely, "Fire!"

One after another, one barrel at a time, the cannons were loosened upon the bird men who could do precious little in this precarious environment. While not apparently the most heavily armed of gunships, the _Protector_ 's current armament was capable of a sustained output of damage greater than what any Ixal could deal with as whole huts melted away alongside those unfortunate to be nearby.

It put a swift and effective stop to the pursuit. Not even the most fanatical elements would dare to continue in the face of such firepower. "Cease fire." the lord commander followed up, his expression a mask of grim satisfaction, "We need no further escalation than this."

Gandalf said nothing to that, and merely nodded in acknowledgment of his choice as they came alongside the aforementioned hut to which a plank was extended. And not a moment too soon as H'aerindu and her cohorts arrived and climbed aboard, one of whom walked with a noticeable limp – whose face he found startlingly familiar alongside the man at his side as they very nearly fell to the deck.

"Legolas! Strider!" Gandalf exclaimed in his surprise, forgetting about the miqo'te entirely as he stepped up to them, "What pray tell are you two doing here?!"

Strider swallowed a breath, not seeming overly surprised in return to see him, "That is a long story, Gandalf..."

The wizard folded his arms expectantly, looking from him and to Legolas, "We have time."

 _OoOoO_

"Quite a timely intervention, Aymeric." H'aerindu told the infuriatingly triumphant-looking lord commander, gladly leaving the others to the Wizard's attention, "If I did not know better, I'd have wondered whether it was all set up beforehand."

Aymeric simply hummed, "There is a certain beauty to being fashionably late." before his voice softened, "Jests aside, I am glad to be in a position to help rather than be forced to watch you – worrying whether you'd pull through at all this time."

"Yeah, thanks." she nodded, and was abruptly invigorated as a spell of healing washed over her. A quick turn to whoever produced it revealed a familiar lalafell who beamed up at her, "Miana Mia, yes? I did not expect to see you again quite so soon."

"Not soon enough if you ask me." Miana said frankly, her eyes seeming hungry somehow, "Now hold still, more healing must still be done!"

For some reason H'aerindu felt an urge to hide akin to when men accidentally happen upon her while she bathed – an option that oft mutated into a punch to the most readily available area if no hiding place was available and hope the blunt trauma erased the memory of seeing her. "Don't need it." she quickly said, "I'm exhausted, not hurt. Go treat the blond one over there – he took a pretty bad hit!"

Miana did not appear to be sufficiently deterred, yet, "Oh but I really must insist! That bruise on your side near the armpit should really get looked at."

"There's no bruise and no scratch. Just a whole lot of perspiration. Go treat him instead."

"Okay..." the lalafell noticeably drooped before she waddled away, paused momentarily to look over Dagasi who had plopped down nearby, scoffed derisively for some reason, then moved on to the elf and readied a spell.

Aymeric chuckled heartily, remarking; "She'd give Haurchefant a run for his gil."

"Maybe." was all H'aerindu wanted to say about that. Touchy subject. "Say, does this airship come with a bath by any chance?"

"Indeed it does, but unfortunately you will have to abstain for now." the lord commander said, "Before we left Ishgard, I dispatched runners to the other city-states to request a convening of the Eorzean Alliance in regards to this whole matter at the earliest opportunity. If I do not miss my mark, the assembling may be taking place as we speak. I have already informed Alphinaud of this."

The Monk sighed, "I understand."

"And lest I forget, Gandalf would like to have a few words with you."

"Of course, though I believe he's well occupied for the time being." H'aerindu pointed to where Gandalf nodded regularly, staring as Strider recounted prior events, "So I'll just go ahead and get some rest while I can."

Aymeric inclined his head, "Feel free. Halone knows you have more than earned some respite."

Having more or less been given the leave to do so, H'aerindu went below deck and chose to climb onto the very first hammock she found on her way down before allowing a few moments of contemplation over the day's events thus far in order to empty her thoughts. In the midst of this she heard a dark and foreboding whisper that was heard by her spirit rather than by the ears.

It was wordless and unintelligible, yet was quite clear.

The ring tried to sooth and tempt her into wearing it again while lavishly offering visions of what greatness she could attain through its use. H'aerindu humored it briefly before she rejected the attempt to influence her with a little force of will, then closed her eyes and was out like a light.

* * *

 _Author notes:_ Not much to say. Wanted the confrontation with and between Garuda and Smaug to be greater, but it proved difficult to expand on more than I did.


End file.
